me to Hejel Wi'ikam?' he asked.
Fat Crack was taken aback. How did the old man know?
'Hejel Wi'ithag,' he connected respectfully. 'An old widow, not an orphaned child.'
Looks At Nothing shook his head. 'She was an orphan when I first knew her. She is an orphan still. Oi g hihm,' he added. 'Let's go.'
Fat Crack helped the wiry old man climb up into the tow truck. How did Looks At Nothing know someone would come for him that day? Surely no one in Many Dogs owned a telephone, but the old man had appeared at The Gate fully prepared to travel.
Devout Christian Scientist that he was, Fat Crack was far too much of a pragmatist to deny, on religious grounds, that which is demonstrably obvious. Looks At Nothing, that cagey old shaman, would bear close watching.
Brandon Walker dreaded going home. He figured that after he'd spent the whole night AWOL, Louella would be ready to have his ears. He stopped in the kitchen long enough to hang his car keys on the pegboard and to pour himself a cup of coffee, steeling himself for the inevitable onslaught. Instead of being angry, however, when his frantic mother came looking for him, she was so relieved to see him that all she could do was blither.
'It's a piano, Brandon. Dear God in heaven, a Steinway!'
'Calm down. What are you talking about?'
'Toby. I worry about buying food sometimes, and here he goes and orders a piano. For his sister, the concert pianist, he told them.
His sister's been dead for thirty-five years, Brandon. What is Toby thinking or. What are we going to do?'
'Did the check clear?'
'No. Of course not. Do you know how much Steinways cost? The store called me and said there must be some mistake. I told them it was a mistake, all right.'
'Where's Dad now?'
'Inside. Taking a nap. He said he was tired.'
'Let's go, Mother,' Brandon ordered. 'Get your car.'
This time he wasn't going to allow any argument.
'The car? Where are we going?'
'Downtown to the bank. We'll have to hurry. It's Saturday, and they're only open until noon. We're closing that checking account once and for all.'
Louella promptly burst into tears. 'How can we do that to your father, Brandon, after he's worked so hard all these years? It seems so ... so underhanded.'
'How many Steinways do you want, Mom?' His position was unassailable.
'I'll go get my purse. Do you think he'll be all right here by himself if he wakes up?'
'He'll have to be. There's no one els- we can leave him with. We'll hurry, but we've both got to go to the bank.'
It wasn't until he was left alone with the young deputy that Ernesto Tashquinth realized exactly how much trouble he was in. Come to think of it, the Pinal County homicide detective had been asking him some pretty funny questions: Why did he go up the mountain to check the spring in the first place? What was the woman's name again? How long had he known her? How well did he know her?
Ernesto tried to be helpful. He patiently answered the questions as best he could. The buzzards, he told them.
He had seen the circling buzzards, and he was afraid if something was dead up there, the smell might come down to the picnic-table area and get him in trouble with his boss.
But now the detective had gone up the mountain to oversee the removal of the body, and Ernesto was left with a young hotshot deputy who couldn't resist swaggering.
'How come you bit that poor lady's boob off, Big Man?
Do you know what happens to guys like you once you're inside?'
Ernesto didn't need the deputy to draw him any pictures.
He remembered all too well a former schoolmate from Sacaton who, accused of raping a white woman, had turned up dead in a charco, suffocated on his own balls.
'I want a lawyer,' Ernesto said quietly. 'I don't have to say anything more until I have a lawyer.'
'The judge will be only too happy to appoint you one, if you live that long,' the deputy told him with a leering grin. 'He'll do it by Monday or Tuesday at the latest, but it's a long time between now and then, chief If I were you, I'd be good-very, very good.'
They brought squares of Jell-O for lunch, and Juanita tried to feed them to her, but Rita shook her head and closed her eyes once more.
The next years passed happily for Dancing Quail, although no one called her that anymore. She became Understanding Woman's ehkthag, her shadow, Dancing Quail kept busy caring for her little sister, looking after the fields, and helping her grandmother make baskets and pottery.
At age six S-kehegaj herself went off to school, taking her turn at riding to Chuk Shon in Big Eddie's wagon. Pretty One thrived in the new environment. She returned home the following summer wishing to be called only by her new Anglo name, Juanita, and refusing to part with her stiff leather shoes.
