by Richard Todd
He also understood that the Lakota people had taken his wife.
From that perch on the riverbank that Kyle and Padma had shared during their visit to 1890, Kyle contemplated the river and the water that had flowed by that spot over the past weeks. He reflected on how much had happened on shore while the water had washed by.
I traveled to the year 1890
I met Sitting Bull
I visited ancient Deadwood
I lost my wife
His mind replayed the only words that mattered:
I lost my wife
Kyle realized that none of what had occurred onshore had moved the river. The water flowed in precisely the same way. Regardless of whether he changed the course of history in the battle to come the following morning, the river’s course would remain the same. Neither would the tracks of his tears alter the river’s flow.
He heard footsteps approaching. He turned to look—it was Padma. She carried Kyle’s gun in her right hand. She sat next to him, then set the gun on the ground. Her face was puffy and red from crying. She looked exhausted.
They both stared at the river. After a long time, Padma spoke.
“I know that I’m messed up,” she said, nodding her head. “I know that. I know I can’t trust my choices anymore. I can’t trust my feelings.”
She took a breath and sighed. “I have not been able to find my love for you,” she said. “I’ve tried to remind myself that I am supposed to be head over heels, impossibly in love—with you. But I haven’t felt it. I haven’t been able to summon those feelings.”
Kyle sighed. “I don’t want you to try to feel something you don’t.”
He stood up. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, and all I’ve done is fuck things up. If Takoda will make you happy, then I will step aside.”
Kyle pulled off his gold wedding ring and handed it to Padma. It was the first time he had removed his ring. Padma took the ring in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers over it.
“Please sit,” she said.
Kyle hesitated.
“Please.”
Kyle sighed, then sat.
Padma continued, “I couldn’t summon my love. I thought it was gone. It terrified me. I tried to replace it.”
She began to cry.
“I was so wrong, and I am so very sorry, husband. I am so deeply ashamed. I have wronged you.”
She turned to face him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The monsters…they didn’t get inside my body, but they got inside my head. My love for you was always there. I just couldn’t see it.”
She broke down, sobbing.
“They got in my head, and they hid my love for you. I couldn’t find it!”
She held up her ring. The diamond sparkled in the sunlight next to the glittering river.
“This diamond…it’s a perfect stone, but that’s not what makes it special,” she said. “It’s special because of how it came to me. It is beautiful because it was given to me by the most beautiful man alive. Somehow, you let me see that again. You gave me a beacon to find my love.
“I see it now. It is so beautiful. It is even more beautiful than you know. I found my love…and I found my shame in the same place.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I am begging you for it anyway. Your love is worth fighting for, Kyle. It’s worth dying for, and if we die tomorrow, I don’t want to die without my husband at my side. I want to die as Mrs. Kyle Mason.”
Padma handed Kyle’s ring to him.
“Please let me have that privilege,” she said. “Please make me the happiest woman on Earth. Please make me the happiest woman of all time…of any time.”
Kyle looked at the ring in Padma’s palm for a moment. He extended his left hand, palm down.
A relieved smile broke across Padma’s face. She slid the ring back onto Kyle’s finger. They embraced.
“There is nothing to forgive, love,” he said. “You’re already Mrs. Kyle Mason. And I am so very proud to be Mr. Padma Mahajan.”
“Thank you. Thank you,” she said, crying into his shirt. “I am so sorry, my husband.”
“But I’d rather live than die, if that’s OK,” Kyle said.
“Yes, that’s OK,” Padma said, laughing through her tears. “Living is good if I’m with you—even in this shit hole. I don’t want to be the Messiah anymore. I’m tired of being the Messiah.”
“After tomorrow, you won’t be,” Kyle said. “One way or another, your job here will be done.”
Padma nodded, sniffling. “Yes.”
She took his hands, squeezed them tight, and kissed them.
“I made you a gift,” Kyle said.
Padma smiled, surprised, wiping away her tears. “You did? What is it?”
He reached into his pocket and fished out a wadded roll of paper. He handed the mangled hand-rolled cigarette to Padma. She burst out laughing.
Kyle pulled a matchbox out of his pocket. “Need a light?”
Padma inserted the crooked cigarette between her lips. Kyle lit it up. Padma took a draw and exhaled.
“Oh!” Padma said. “That is disgusting! It’s also the best smoke I ever had,” she added, kissing him.
• • •
Blam!
Padma gasped as she and Kyle stared at each other in surprise.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Four cannon blasts shook the ground, followed by the screams of women and war whoops of the braves.
“Just when we were having a moment,” Kyle said, picking his MP7 off the ground. “Let’s go.”
They ran through the cottonwood trees to the village. Annika met them.
“Our friends are rattling their sabers,” she shouted. “C’mon!”
They ran through tipis to the northern edge of the village. A series of cottonwood barricades stood between them and the massive federal army. The barricades had been erected by the tribespeople as part of Kyle and Annika’s plan to defend the village. The army was encamped over a mile to the north, across the creek that formed the northern boundary of the village. Kyle and Annika couldn’t see what was going on through the barricades, though percussion from the rapid cannon fire rattled the ground.
“We need to get a forward position to have a look,” shouted Annika.
Kyle nodded. At that moment, a dozen tribesmen rode up on horseback, preparing to attack.
“If they attack, they’ll be slaughtered!” shouted Kyle to Padma. “Turn them around and round up the war council. We’ll be back in 30.”
Padma nodded and waved to the warriors as Kyle and Annika ran north through the barricades.
The barricades were a series of parallel walls that arced in a half moon around the village. The timber ramparts of piled limbs and branches were 8 feet tall and 20 feet deep at the base. They each stretched for over 100 yards, encompassing the hive of tipis backed into the corner juncture where the Grand River flowed into the Missouri. As the tipis hugged and protected their children, the fortress embraced the tipis.
Each of the cottonwood tree walls had openings 30 feet wide, through which Kyle and Annika ran to advance to the next barricade. The cannon fire grew louder. The blast percussions rattled Kyle’s and Annika’s chests as they ran to the forward barricade.
When they arrived, they peered around an opening in the barricade. Annika lifted her binoculars just in time to see the muzzle flashes of four Hotchkiss guns.
“Incoming!” she shouted as they hit the deck.
Four shells hit the barricade, blowing holes in the battlements. Cottonwood branches and twigs blew into the air, showering the pair.
“Out of range,” Annika observed. “They can do some damage to the barricades, but they can’t hit the village from across the creek.”
“We’ll keep our powder dry and make them come to us,” said Annika.
“Let me take a look,” he said, reaching for the binoculars.
Through the binoculars, Kyle spied a fearsome army. Thousands of men in blue uniforms were mustered on the opposite side of the creek, with hundreds on horseback. Dozens of company and regiment flags fluttered in the breeze along with the American flag. Some companies drilled while the Hotchkiss guns fired. Other soldiers tended to the requirements of the camp, setting up tents, cooking, and cleaning their weapons.
“That army looks a lot bigger close up,” Kyle said.
“Funny how that works,” replied Annika.
The ground thundered again. Another round of shells slammed into the barricade, pelting the pair with cottonwood tree branches.
Annika slapped Kyle on the shoulder, grinning. “This is fun, right?”
The cannon fire ceased. Kyle and Annika brushed off the foliage. Annika grabbed the binoculars. Horse-drawn flatbed wagons had pulled up next to the Hotchkiss guns. The gun crews were loading them onto the wagons.
“They’re loading up the guns,” Annika reported. “Let’s see where they take them.”
The pair watched as the guns were loaded and secured on the wagons, along with cases of ammunition. A company of cavalry soldiers escorted the wagons. The wagons then rolled west along North Creek. Several hundred yards upstream, the wagons and their escorts turned south.
“They’re crossing the creek,” said Annika.
The water was four feet deep, rising to the horses’ chests. After several minutes, the detachment cleared the creek and continued to move south toward a series of plateaus to the northwest of the village.
“They’re headed for the plateau,” reported. Annika. “We guessed right.”
“Well, if we’re going to be dead, we might as well be right,” said Kyle. “Let’s get back to the village.”
Standing Rock Reservation
South Dakota
September 27, 1890
16:30 hours
Timeline 003
Kyle and Annika navigated the barricade maze back to the village. They emerged from the inner barricade into a scene of pandemonium. Warriors gathered snorting, galloping horses spooked by the cannon fire. Women herded crying children into their tipis. They could hear Yellow Bird singing. He stood in front of a very large tipi in the center of the village. The structure was the council lodge.
Kyle and Annika ran to the lodge. Its hide coverings were peeled back to reveal the interior, where Padma had gathered some 100 chiefs and distinguished warriors. The lodge was huge compared with the surrounding tipis. The central tree pole of the council lodge was 30 feet high. The lodge’s base had a diameter of 60 feet.
Padma’s back was to the lodge entrance. As she heard Kyle’s running footsteps, she turned. A relieved smile flashed across her face as she saw him. She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
“That’s more like it,” Kyle said between kisses.
“Tell me,” she said.
“It looks like we’ve got ourselves a war,” Kyle replied. “We should get started.”
Padma nodded and motioned for the chiefs to sit. Everyone sat in a circle around the inner circumference of the lodge.
Padma and Annika flanked Kyle. Takoda sat next to Annika, opposite from Padma. Padma and Takoda avoided eye contact.
The council members could hear General Miles’ army in the distance. Though the cannon fire had ceased, the army was still making plenty of noise in preparation for the morning attack. The sharp reports of rifle drills mixed with bugle calls and snare drums. Those martial noises played against a background of camp sounds. Hundreds of white tents were erected, horses were untacked, and fires blazed to cook dinner for thousands of soldiers.
A 5,000-man army on the village doorstep was an impossible distraction for the council, like making dinner plans in the shadow of a falling skyscraper.
All tribal chiefs sat in the council circle, including Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, Spotted Elk, and Kicking Bear. The chiefs were lords and masters over their individual tribes. Inter-tribal cooperation was challenging enough. Securing the agreement of all tribes to sign off on a plan with the level of intricacy proposed by Kyle and Annika was unprecedented. The Messiah was the glue that temporarily held the alliance together.
Takoda struggled to translate Kyle and Annika’s English. Translating in real time was already mentally exhausting. Compounding the task with love sickness pushed fatigue to fracture. Takoda was forced to stop frequently to catch up or correct words lost in translation.
Though Kyle felt the thick awkwardness in these close quarters with Takoda and Padma, he felt sorry for his former rival. Having lost Padma twice in one lifetime, he knew well the pain that Takoda was feeling. He was patient with Takoda, giving him time to complete each sentence. Life and death hung on these words. Precision was essential.
“As Colonel Wise and I expected, the army has made camp on the opposite side of North Creek,” Kyle said, drawing a circle in the dirt to represent the army opposite a line drawn for the creek. He drew another line to the south, parallel to the creek, representing the Grand River. He then crossed the two lines with a third line to the east, representing the Missouri River, into which the creek and the Grand River flowed. He then drew several pyramids, representing tipis, in the corner formed by the “L” where the Grand River met the Missouri River.
“As Colonel Wise and I advised, you have moved the village here, out of range of the army’s Hotchkiss guns.”
Kyle drew a small circle to the west of the village.
“As you already know, we determined that the best site for a gun battery is here—this plateau, 1,000 yards to the west of the village. From this point, the gunners have an excellent vantage.
“It appears that the army has reached the same conclusion. We spied wagons with Hotchkiss guns being hauled up to the plateau. We expect the gun batteries to be operational by dawn.
“One aspect of our plan involves setting fires here and here…” Kyle said, pointing at different points on his dirt map.
“…and setting off charges here. Colonel Wise and I will be with our forward army. We need a volunteer to light the fires and set off the charges. This mission will be dangerous,” he added.
Several warriors stood to volunteer. Takoda stood up. He stepped in front of Padma, seated with her legs tucked to the side. Padma looked at the ground.
“Please,” said Takoda. “Let me do this. Chanl wah-shday.”
Padma did not raise her eyes to meet Takoda’s. She shook her head.
“No,” she said.
“You’re too important,” Kyle said, trying to take the edge off Takoda’s humiliation. “We can’t afford to lose you.”
Takoda sighed, hung his head, and returned to his seat. Kyle pointed to another warrior—a muscular, bare-chested man with two long braids and three eagle feathers in his hair.
“Ogaleesha,” Padma said. She turned to Kyle. “His name means ‘wears a red shirt.’”
Ogaleesha approached Padma. His expression was deadly serious.
Kyle opted not ask why the bare-chested warrior wasn’t wearing a shirt—red or otherwise.
“Ogaleesha, you volunteer for this mission?” Padma asked. Takoda translated without lifting his gaze from the ground.
“Han!” Ogaleesha replied. “Yes.”
“You understand this is dangerous?” Padma asked.
“Han.”
“How can I know you will succeed?” asked Padma.
Ogaleesha raised his hands to his chest and slapped his Sun Dance scars.
“Lee-lah wah-shday,” Padma said, nodding. “Very good.”
A middle-aged Lakota man approached the lodge, wearing fringed deerskin pants and matching shirt with blue, red, and yellow beads. He wore an eagle feather in each of the two braids that framed his troubled face.
The chiefs turned to look at the man. It was Chief Gall.
“I ask permission to join the council meeting,” he said.
Sitting Bull stood to face Gall. “You are welcome here.”
“I would rather die as a Lakota warrior than live as a white farmer,” Gall said. “Please tell me how I can serve my people.”
Sitting Bull looked into the faces of the other chiefs. They nodded in approval.
“We do not want you to die,” Sitting Bull said. “We want you to live…as the commander of our army.”
Standing Rock Reservation
South Dakota
September 28, 1890
06:45 hours
Timeline 003
General Miles’ valet tied a crimson sash around the general’s waist, then fastened the general’s sword belt around the sash. His brass sword scabbard gleamed on the general’s thigh in the lamplight. The sword’s pearl handle peaked the scabbard. A Colt pistol, in its shiny black leather holster, hung on the general’s left hip.
The general extended his arms slightly back to assist his valet as he slid on a dress coat with a major general’s shoulder boards. Columns of gleaming brass buttons paraded down the general’s chest. The general pulled on his tan deerskin gauntlets. The valet handed him his navy broad-brimmed hat with its brilliant gold cord. The general placed the hat on his head with precision. Satisfied with his attire, General Miles nodded to his valet, who held open the tent flap for him to exit.
The general stepped into the cool pre-dawn air. A corporal standing to the right of his tent door saluted. Ten feet in front of the general’s tent, his aide-de-camp, Major David Hollingsworth, and his second in command, Colonel Joseph Reynolds, saluted in tandem. General Miles returned both men’s salutes. To the east, he saw a glow over the Missouri River as the sun approached the horizon.