Winter Counts

by David Heska Wanbli Weiden

  “Yeah?” He looked over but didn’t recognize me. That wasn’t surprising—we probably hadn’t spoken in about twenty years.

  “I’m Virgil. Wounded Horse. I’m Nathan’s uncle. Nathan from the high school.”

  Recognition spread across his face. But there was no friendliness there.

  “Right. What’s up?”

  “I know you’re off duty, but I’m wondering if I could talk to you. About some stuff at the school.”

  “Look, we just got here.”

  “Take only a minute, I promise.”

  “All right,” he said with a scowl. “Get me one of them Mexican beers, will you?” he said to his companions. “A Tecate.” He pronounced it Tee-Kate.

  “You want to go out front?” I said. “Too loud in here.”

  I followed him out the door. He was still a big guy, but the years hadn’t done him any favors. His once muscular frame was covered with a layer of fat. Not that I cared. I was just going to talk to him, see if there was anything he could do to help Nathan out. We stepped onto the sidewalk, and I lit up a cigarette.

  “So, my nephew’s been telling me that some of the kids at school are giving him a bad time. Calling him iyeska, some other shit. You know anything about that?”

  He spat on the sidewalk. “I stay out of their problems. Don’t want no part of it. I only get called in if there’s a fight. He been in any of those?”

  “No, he keeps his nose pretty clean.”

  Ray made a weird sound. I couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or a chuckle.

  “You got something to tell me?” I said.

  “I was the one that opened up his locker. Found them pills. Seems like he deserves whatever he gets, bringing that crap to the school.”

  Maybe I’d made a mistake by speaking to this guy. I tossed my cigarette and ground it out with my shoe. “I’m not going to talk about that. Just want to know if you’ve seen or heard anything about the bullying.”

  Ray spat again, right by my shoe. “Yeah, I heard something. I heard he’s another fucking iyeska like you, a piece of trash that sells drugs. Good riddance; I hope he enjoys prison, where he’ll get pounded in the—”

  That was it. I took hold of his arm, and he immediately grabbed mine as a reflex. Exactly what I wanted him to do. He’d opened up his hand, and I gripped his right thumb and pulled it back as far as it would go. He gasped and tried to speak, but no words came out.

  “If I break your thumb, you’ll never make a fist or write with a pen again. But I’m not gonna do that. You know why?”

  His face was contorted from the pain in his hand. He didn’t say anything, just grunted. It sounded like he was giving birth to triplets, maybe quadruplets.

  “Because I want you to help my nephew. He’s a good kid, don’t deserve that shit. About them pills, I don’t know. But I know you’re gonna make sure none of them bullies give him a hard time no more. Nathan takes any more shit, it’s on you. I’ll find you and break both thumbs, rip your ears off too. You’ll look like a fucking sideshow freak. So, we good? You gonna do the right thing?”

  I wrenched his thumb over another inch, right to the breaking point. He wasn’t grunting anymore. His face looked like a kachina doll that had been run over by a car.

  “I said, we good?”

  He moved his chin a few inches up and down. I let go of Ray’s hand and stepped back in case he decided to come after me. But he just rubbed his hand and avoided looking at me.

  “You have a nice night,” I said. “Enjoy those beers.”

  I walked back in to the bar and signaled to Tommy that we needed to leave. He got up, shaking his head.

  “Damn, again? Never do get to eat in peace when I’m around you.”

  23

  About a week later, I came home around noon from a construction job in Rapid City to find Marie sitting on my couch. I knew right away that something was wrong. Her face was drawn, and her entire body looked tense.

  “Hey, why aren’t you at—”

  “I got fired!” she said. “From my goddamn job! That bitch Delia terminated me. Can you believe it?”

  I pulled out a chair. “On what grounds?”

  “Insubordination. She said I went over her head on the bison grant, said she’d told me to stop working on it. She never said that! She’s just jealous.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “How’d you go over her head? Wasn’t the grant thing your project?”

  “Yeah, but she’s claiming I neglected my duties, which is bullshit. She said the bison project won’t work for us because we don’t have the facilities to handle fresh meat, which is stupid. It’s our job to make that happen, right?” She was pulling at her long black hair like there was something attached to it.

  “I don’t understand. Didn’t you bring in a whole bunch of money? Seems like that’s a good thing for the tribe.”

  “Yeah, of course! Two hundred thousand dollars. The money’s just sitting in the bank. You’d think I’d be rewarded. But she said I wasn’t focusing on my job, which is complete and utter crap. She’s the one who barely does anything.”

  “Can’t you fight this? If it’s not true?”

  “I don’t know. She had all the paperwork filled out—I guess she’d been planning it for a while. She mentioned like five times that I’d been written up before. Yeah, twice. In three years! And those were bullshit too. I was out one day because of a scheduling mistake, and the other time I missed was because my mom was sick. Remember that?”

  I didn’t, but I let her go on.

  “She just hates me and wants me gone so she can waste even more time.”

  I thought about comforting her, but she still looked wired to detonate.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” I said. “It’s not that easy to fire someone. From an office job.”

  “I guess it is. We don’t have employment contracts, so we can be let go any time. That’s what she told me, anyway.” She started twisting one of her rings, around and around.

  “Yeah, but why would she fire a councilman’s daughter? Especially when he’s running for tribal president? Isn’t she worried she’ll get in trouble with your father?”

  “I know, right? That’s what I thought, too. I called my dad before you got here—he said I could meet with him later today. Like I’m some nobody off the street! I wonder if he knew about this.”

  “Don’t think so,” I said. “If he knew about it, why wouldn’t he tell you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to his office later. You mind driving me? I’m so mad, I can’t focus. This is the first time in my life I’ve been fired.”

  “Sure, happy to take you there. But take it easy.”

  She just shook her head, staring down at the floor.

  TWO HOURS LATER, I pulled into the parking lot for the tribal council offices, finding a spot next to an older-model American truck and a German sedan.

  “You want me to wait out here?” I asked.

  “No, come on in. I don’t know if he’s ready to talk yet.”

  We walked inside, past the vacant reception desk and all the flyers and posters tacked on the wall. Ben’s office was at the far end of the building, the door slightly open.

  “I’ll see you in little while, okay?” she said, then rapped on the door and went inside. I pulled up a chair and sat down in the hallway. I could hear the two of them clearly from my seat, and wondered if I should wait in the car to give them some privacy. I got up and started to walk away, but then I changed my mind. No harm in hearing what Ben had to say. I might even learn something useful.

  There was a sound like chairs being moved, and I heard Ben offering Marie some coffee.

  “No thanks, I’m already too jittery,” Marie said.

  “All right, so let’s talk,” Ben said. “Wayne Janis told me a few days ago this was coming. I guess Delia Kills in Water cleared it with him.”

  “Wait, you knew about this? Why didn’t you say anything?” More chair noises.

 
; “Marie, I had to stay out of it—I didn’t have a choice. I’m not on that committee, I don’t have any influence over there.”

  “Bullshit! You’ve been on council for years—you know everyone. And you’re running for president!”

  “That’s exactly why I can’t interfere. If I protect you, Cecil LaPlante will destroy me in the election. He’ll claim nepotism, corruption. Hey, I don’t like what happened. But really, it doesn’t make a difference. You’re going off to medical school soon—who gives a damn about that job?”

  “I care! You know the crappy food in the commodity boxes. My grant will change that. Fresh buffalo meat—”

  “That’s not going to happen. It was a nice idea, but the tribe doesn’t have the capacity to process and store bison. The money’s going to be used for education and promotion. That’s what I heard.”

  “What? The grant is for bison meat. I know, I wrote it! How are they using it for other stuff?”

  “That’s how federal grants work. You apply in a certain area, but the government gives you leeway on spending the funds. Wayne doesn’t think it’s a good use of our resources to use the grant for buffalo meat. People won’t eat it anyway—they like beef and pork.”

  “That’s not true! Lack’s been telling me that bison’s better than beef; people just need to learn how to cook it, get—”

  “Marie, this is out of my hands. Wayne and Delia have their own plans; I understand she already used most of the grant money for new programs. I hear she’s going to Florida next month for training. They’re very grateful to you for—”

  “Grateful? She fired me, Dad!” I heard some loud banging, which sounded like a chair being knocked over.

  “All right, we’re done here,” Ben said. “I know you’re upset and you have a right to be, but this is over.”

  “It’s not over!” Marie said, and the door swung open. She stormed off down the hall. I trailed after her, looking behind me to see if anyone was following.

  I OFFERED TO STAY with Marie at her place, but she wanted some time alone. Being fired was new territory for her. I’d been let go from plenty of jobs back in my drinking days, so it didn’t bother me. But this was a big deal for Marie. She felt she’d been cast out by the reservation snobs again, that she wasn’t good enough or accepted for who she was. And being fired by Delia was the final indignity. I gave her some space but told her to come to my shack if she wanted company.

  Later that evening my phone rang. It was Marie.

  “Hey, it’s me. Can you come over? I’ve got something I want to talk about.”

  This didn’t sound good. “Everything all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just want to discuss something in private. You can leave Nathan alone for a while, right?”

  “Yeah, of course. Be there soon.”

  I PULLED UP in front of Marie’s little house. As I opened my door, I saw an animal run away. A stray dog, eating some of the food Marie had put out.

  I always liked coming to Marie’s place. It wasn’t much larger than my space, but was much cleaner and had nicer furniture. Inside, she had a blue velvet couch, black end tables, leafy green plants, and a crate of vinyl albums in the corner. In the kitchen, there was one of those Kit-Cat clocks, the kind with the big eyes that move from side to side. Hanging on the walls in the living room were two abstract paintings, caricatures of the images used in the media to depict Natives. I saw Chief Wahoo and other Native sports mascots, their images defaced and mutilated by the artist. Another print portrayed three wolves running in an electric blue landscape.

  Marie noticed me looking at it. “She’s an Osage artist. Or was, I guess. She died a few years ago. My mom just gave it to me.”

  “I like it. Surreal. Looks like they’re on the moon or something.”

  “You want something to drink?”

  “Don’t suppose you have any Shastas?”

  “Matter of fact, I do.” She poured a glass of cherry cola over ice and some water for herself, then sat down next to me on the couch. “Thanks for coming by so late.”

  “No problem,” I said. “You feeling better about the job stuff?”

  “Not really. Still super pissed off. It’s just not right. I busted my hump over there for years, doing the work, making the program better. Don’t know if I told you, but I fixed the inventory system last fall and got more choices on fruits and vegetables.” She took a drink of water. “It doesn’t make sense. To fire me. Yeah, I missed a few days, but there are people working for the tribe who barely show up.”

  “I hear you,” I said. “It’s not fair. Hell with them.”

  “I know I should move on, but I can’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I asked you to stop by, got something I want to ask you.”

  “Yeah?”

  I waited for her to say more, but she hesitated.

  “Ask away,” I said.

  “Well, I don’t want to sound paranoid, but something doesn’t make sense. Delia could have canned me last year if she just wanted me out. You know, we don’t like each other, but we figured out how to work together. Pretty much she ignores me and I ignore her, except when we have to talk about work stuff. So why fire me now?”

  I took a gulp of my Shasta. “I don’t know. Maybe she was waiting for the right time?”

  “Maybe. But my dad said something today at his office. He said Delia’s been using the bison grant money for some programs, that most of it’s already gone. But that’s not right. I get copies of all the financial reports and bank statements, and I haven’t seen any funds being spent. Just four thousand for Lack’s food truck; besides that, it’s all still there. I just reviewed the last statement, so I know I’m right. I would have been notified of any accounts payable or pending liabilities. You see what I’m saying?” She looked at me with an expectant expression.

  “You think there’s something going on with the grant? Something shady?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and poured herself more water. “Either my dad’s wrong about this, or she’s spending the money somewhere, off the books. Sounds bizarre, I know, but my gut tells me there’s no reason for Delia to fire me now unless she’s hiding something.”

  I chewed on an ice cube, a habit my mother had always hated. “Okay,” I said, “maybe she is hiding something. Wouldn’t put it past her. But you don’t work there anymore, so what can you do?”

  She looked me straight in the eye. “I want you to help me break in to her office.”

  AT FIRST I THOUGHT Marie was mocking me. She’d never broken a law in her life, not even a speeding ticket, and now she was proposing to commit trespass and burglary.

  “You’re not serious? Why would you—”

  “Hear me out. Maybe I’m wrong about this, but I don’t think so. Something’s not right with this whole grant thing.”

  “This is crazy. You can’t break into someone’s work because you got fired. What if we got arrested?”

  “Oh, come on! You’re the one who beats people up when the police won’t do anything.”

  She had a point. “All right, let’s even say we could get in to her office. What makes you think you’ll find anything there?”

  “The budget and spreadsheets are on her computer, but I know the password. I can check out the department financials, see the expenditures. Maybe there’s nothing, but at least I’d know.”

  I went to her refrigerator, got another Shasta, and sat down. “Look, I know you’re mad about getting fired. But this isn’t the way. If she’s pulling some crooked shit, you should tell your father, let him handle it.”

  She shook her head. “I thought about that. Calling my dad, asking him to check it out. But he doesn’t want any drama now, not with the election coming up. What if he accuses her, but it turns out she didn’t do anything? I need to get the records first, then I can go to him.”

  I shook my head. “Marie, no. You need to step back. I don’t know crap about medical school, but I bet they won’t like it if you get popped with
a felony charge.”

  “I know I’m right. If you’re too chickenshit to help me, I’ll do it myself.”

  Her eyes were blazing, and I didn’t doubt that she’d follow through with her threat to go over there by herself. The woman who’d told me to stop taking the law into my own hands now wanted my help in committing a felony, all because of her enemy. Delia Kills in Water, the one who’d bullied Marie for years but never had to pay for her sins. Maybe it was time.

  “Fine. I’ll help you. But we do it my way.”

  MARIE WANTED TO DRIVE over there immediately and get inside Delia’s computer, but I told her we needed to come up with a plan. I asked her about Delia’s work schedule and any security procedures at the office. She said that Delia left promptly at five o’clock, and the last employee usually left around six, at the latest. A cleaning person came in once a week, but usually finished by nine. No alarm system or surveillance cameras. Marie still had her key to the outer doors, but I’d have to jimmy the lock on Delia’s office door. This sounded pretty straightforward. We decided to go over there the next night.

  “I still think you should let your dad handle this,” I told her. “Sleep on it, see if you feel different tomorrow.”

  “I won’t.”

  TRUE TO HER WORD, she called me the next morning and told me it was on. So I gathered the tools we’d need: a screwdriver, two flashlights, three pieces of wire, and an old grocery rewards card. And my Spyder knife. Just in case.

  We left just after midnight, taking her car because it was quieter and more reliable. I parked a few blocks away so no one would see a vehicle in the parking lot. The area didn’t have many houses, but there was no point in taking chances.

  “Remember,” I said, “if anyone’s in there, just tell ’em that you’re picking up some of your stuff and were too embarrassed to come by during the day.”

  “There won’t be anybody, trust me.”

  “Just check first. Don’t turn on any of the overhead lights, use the flashlight. Once we get in to her office, I’ll stand guard by the back door.”

  “Okay, boss,” she said, smiling.

  She was a lot less nervous than I would have expected. She seemed happy, jaunty even, not like someone committing her first major crime.