The Ghost of Blackfeet Nation

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The Ghost of Blackfeet Nation Page 12

by Eva Pohler


  He waved a hand at her. “No worries. I think I can still hear him snoring, actually.”

  “Why is this mixed news, Father?” Tanya asked.

  “Well, apparently it’s quite common for people to have one leg longer than the other. Officer Jackson told me that it happens in forty to seventy percent of the human population.”

  “Oh, no,” Ellen groaned. She felt completely deflated. “Then we’ve proved nothing.”

  “The good news is that the discrepancy in leg length is usually unnoticeable,” the priest said. “The fact that Rabbit’s was severe enough to affect his walking might set him apart. And the medical examiner did concede that the discrepancy in the case of the remains was severe. He also said that the remains were of a male who was approximately seventeen years of age when he died, and that the bones appeared to have been at the bottom of the river for at least one hundred years. This is all consistent with the body belonging to Rabbit.”

  “Well, then!” Sue said, a little too loudly again. She covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “The problem is that the authorities aren’t willing to accept the results of a paranormal investigation or a memoir handwritten in Piegan as evidence that Rabbit had such a condition. Officer Jackson says the medical examiner has documented the second body as a John Doe.”

  Ellen wanted to cry.

  “They accepted the letters of Father Galdas in identifying Sister Alma,” Sue pointed out.

  “They had the rosary,” the priest said.

  “Someone else could have jumped in the river with Alma’s rosary,” Sue argued.

  Father Gonzales nodded. “It’s unfair. Completely unfair.”

  “Well, we know the truth,” Tanya said. “Isn’t that good enough?”

  “I don’t know,” Father Gonzales said. “Didn’t you say you wanted to bury Rabbit at his home with his parents? I’m not sure if you or anyone will be able to claim the body. The ME won’t release the remains to just anyone.”

  “What about Sister Alma?” Sue asked.

  “She’s being released to Holy Family Mission in a few days,” he said.

  “There’s got to be a way,” Tanya muttered.

  “Us knowing the truth isn’t good enough by a longshot.” Ellen shifted in her chair. “Not if we want to convince Sidney Longfellow that he’s a descendant of the Blackfeet. Not if we want the white buffalo hide to find its rightful owner. Not if we want Rabbit and Crow Woman to find peace.”

  “Mr. Longfellow may surprise us,” Tanya said. “Maybe he’ll be open to the idea.”

  Sue shook her head. “It would be too much of a conflict of interest for him to both accept his heritage and litigate for drilling rights. If Karen’s right and all he cares about is money, he won’t accept the hide.”

  “A letter from the medical examiner might have changed that,” Ellen said. “But without the authorities on our side, I think it’s a lost cause.”

  “We’ll just have to find a way to convince him,” Tanya said. “Come on, guys. You dragged me out here for a reason. Don’t tell me you’re giving up this easily.”

  Ellen wiped the tears from her eyes. “What choice do we have?”

  “We should at least reach out to Mr. Longfellow,” Tanya said. “Shouldn’t we? We can’t not give it a try.”

  Sue lifted a finger. “Maybe it’s time we went back to the French Quarter.”

  “I don’t know.” It seemed like a waste of time to Ellen.

  “Hear me out.” Sue sat up on the end of the couch. “You said the white buffalo fur shocked you, right?”

  “So?”

  “Well, if Sidney is the rightful owner of it, wouldn’t it shock him, too?”

  “Maybe,” Ellen said. She lifted her brows. She was reminded of something the white buffalo had said to her in her dream. “I suppose it’s our best chance. What do you think, Tanya?”

  “I’m game, but only if we take the train.”

  Ellen turned to Sue.

  “The train it is,” Sue said.

  Ellen sighed. “Now we just need to convince the tribe to let us take the fur with us.”

  The next day at breakfast, as they sat at a table in the lodge restaurant overlooking the beautiful mountains, Ellen, Sue, and Tanya called Karen Murray to update her on what they’d been told by the Jesuit priest and to ask her opinion about their taking the white buffalo skin to New Orleans.

  Over the speaker on Sue’s phone, Karen said, “Chief Eric Old Person would be the one to ask, but I can tell you now, he won’t allow it. The white buffalo is too sacred to our people, and, no offense, but we don’t know you well enough to trust you with it.”

  “I understand,” Sue said. “What if I go forward with my plans to buy the property? You did say that I would become its custodian.”

  “It’s custodian, but not its owner,” Karen said. “The chief would never allow it to be taken off the reservation by anyone but a member of our tribe.”

  “Could you come with us?” Ellen asked.

  Karen’s laughter carried over the speaker. “Not everyone has the luxury of travelling at their leisure. Some of us have to work for a living.”

  “Ouch,” Ellen whispered.

  “Speaking of which,” Karen added, “I should get back to mine.”

  “Before you go, is there anyone you can think of that might be willing to accompany us?” Sue asked her.

  “Not off the top of my head. If I think of someone, I’ll let you know.”

  They ended the call and sat quietly for a moment, allowing the disappointment to settle in.

  Then Sue lifted a finger. “What about Rich Falcon, our tour guide? He owns his own business. I bet if we offered to pay him each day for more than he could make otherwise, he’d agree. Don’t you think?”

  Ellen and Tanya exchanged smiles.

  “Good idea, Sue!” Tanya said.

  “You’d be surprised how often I’m told that,” Sue said with a grin.

  Chapter Fourteen: Return to the French Quarter

  After Chief Eric Old Person agreed to allow Rich Falcon to take the white buffalo hide from Talks to Buffalo Lodge off reservation, Rich took the fur to a fellow tribal member to have it cleaned while Ellen, Sue, and Tanya made their travel arrangements. The ladies decided to keep one of their rooms at Glacier Park Lodge, so they wouldn’t have to take everything with them. They also hoped to return within the week, even though the better part of their time would be spent on the train.

  Ellen wasn’t excited about spending two days and three hours on the train to New Orleans, but she supposed it was better for both Tanya and the buffalo skin. Even if they’d flown first class, they would have had to stuff the hide in the overhead bin or check it with the luggage, and neither of those options seemed safe. On the train, there was plenty of room for Rich to drape the fur beside him in the large, comfy seat.

  Fortunately, a new mystery novel kept Ellen occupied. By the time she’d finished it, they were only a few minutes outside of New Orleans.

  Sue had managed to book their old room at the Inn on Ursulines—the one with the two queen beds. Rich stayed in a smaller room with a twin bed. He seemed to be happy because it was on the top floor and had a nice view of the French Quarter. It was late Wednesday night when they arrived and, since they had eaten on the train, they went to bed, because the morning would come early for them.

  Ellen, Sue, and Tanya met Rich Falcon downstairs in the lobby at eight o’clock the next morning. Rich was wearing the white buffalo fur like a cape over his button up, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. The buffalo head lay on his upper back like a large hood.

  “Good morning,” he said to them with a nod.

  “Good morning,” they said back.

  “Did you sleep okay?” Ellen asked him.

  “I’m not used to all the city noise,” he admitted, “but I eventually fell asleep.”

  “We need caffeine,” Sue said. “There’s a bakery we love that’s not far from here. They hav
e excellent coffee and pastries.”

  They took a cab to their favorite bakery a block away from their condos on Chartres Street. From there, they paid a brief visit to Maria Nunnery, the woman they had hired to manage the property.

  Ellen was surprised at how well their old friend looked. She no longer had a missing front tooth, her long hair had been cut into a stylish bob, and she was wearing makeup and fashionable clothes.

  After introducing Maria to Rich Falcon, Ellen and her friends filled her in on what they’d been doing in Montana. Then Maria told them what she’d been up to. They were pleased to learn that her daughter, Cecilia, was in the process of having Maria’s house rebuilt. The house had been destroyed years ago during Hurricane Katrina, and it had been Maria’s dream to return to her home one day.

  “Best of all, Jamar got a job,” Maria said, “He works for a construction firm. He’s there now.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Sue said.

  “Does he still write poetry?” Ellen asked.

  “Not as much anymore, but some.”

  “I bet he’s excited about the house, too,” Tanya said.

  “He sure is,” Maria said with a bright smile.

  “Will you continue to work with us after you move?” Sue asked.

  “If you’ll have me,” Maria said. “And, since you’ll be able to rent or sell my unit, you can afford to give me a raise.”

  “True!” Ellen said. “Very true!”

  Ellen referred to the units as condos, but they were really apartments, as the tenants rented rather than owned. But it had always been her plan to convert them into properties that encouraged home ownership in the French Quarter. They were in the process of working out the details with the two families that lived there.

  From Chartres Street, Ellen and her party took a cab to downtown New Orleans, to a modern high-rise office building where Solonex was located on the twelfth floor. They arrived at their ten-o’clock appointment fifteen minutes early but only waited in the posh waiting room for a few minutes before a young woman entered and asked them to follow her to see Mr. Longfellow.

  A tall, well-built man in his late seventies or early eighties stood up from behind a desk and greeted each of them as they entered, offering them his hand and then cups of coffee, which they declined. Then he asked them to take a seat as he returned to a chair behind the desk.

  Photos on his desk and on the walls pictured him with a lovely wife, a son, and a daughter, both with families of their own. A small crucifix hung over a degree from Louisiana State University from the late sixties. As he smiled at them patiently from behind his desk and said, “How can I help you good people?”, he didn’t strike Ellen as the unfeeling, greedy man Karen Murray had made him out to be.

  “We’re here to help you, Mr. Longfellow,” Sue said.

  “Please call me Sidney. I’ve been officially retired now for over a decade, but I like to keep an eye on things from time to time. I’m only here today because your message sounded urgent. I must say, however, I still have no idea as to why you’re here. I’m afraid my business ventures are behind me. If you are looking for an investor, you might want to talk to my son.”

  “We’re not here because of a business venture,” Ellen said. “It’s actually a personal matter involving your biological grandparents.”

  “Biological grandparents?” he repeated.

  “Which of your parents was adopted?” Sue asked. “Was it your father?”

  “What makes you think either of my parents was adopted? I’m afraid you have the wrong man. I’m sorry to disappoint you. It appears you came all this way for nothing.”

  Ellen exchanged looks of confusion with her friends. Even Rich Falcon couldn’t look more stunned.

  “We have proof,” Ellen said. “Bodies found recently in the Two-Medicine River near Holy Family Mission Church have a 75% DNA match to your DNA.”

  Sue lifted her finger. “That means…”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have your facts straight.” He stood up, as a way of indicating to them that the meeting was over. “Neither of my parents was adopted. Someone is pulling either your leg or mine.”

  Ellen stood up, too, and placed her hand on the white buffalo robe, which immediately pulsed electricity through her arm. “No one is pulling anyone’s leg. If you’d just give us a chance to explain. We’ve come all this way to give you this rare and sacred white buffalo hide because it’s your birthright. It belonged to your grandfather, Rabbit, and to his father, Talks to Buffalo.”

  Sidney’s face flushed red. “Is this some kind of gimmick? Did the Blackfeet send you here to trick me into dropping my lawsuit?”

  “We would never trick you,” Rich Falcon said, “unlike the U.S. government.”

  “You are a Blackfoot. I knew it. I don’t believe this. Shame on you. This is low. The tribe and the government have been sitting on this issue for nearly forty years, and now this. I would like you to leave, please—right now. Or I’ll call security.”

  “Couldn’t you just touch the fur and see for yourself?” Ellen asked him.

  Sidney picked up the receiver on his desk phone and punched a number before saying, “I need security up here.”

  “We’re leaving,” Sue said. “There’s no need for that.”

  Ellen followed Rich Falcon and her friends from the office and to the elevators near the lobby.

  “How disappointing,” Tanya murmured as she pushed the down button.

  “This was pointless,” Rich Falcon complained. “I had a feeling it would be.”

  “No,” Sue said. “This isn’t over.”

  The elevators opened to reveal two security guards. After the guards stepped out, Ellen and her party stepped in and took the elevator down.

  “That was close,” Tanya said.

  Ellen crossed her arms and turned to her friends. “I have an idea.”

  “I’m glad to hear I don’t have to carry all the weight around here,” Sue said before adding, “I meant that figuratively, of course. Let’s hear it, Ellen.”

  “I think we should visit the Voodoo Spiritual Temple and ask High Priestess Isabel for help.”

  “The what?” Rich Falcon asked with a nod of his head.

  “I’m game,” Tanya said with a smile.

  A half hour later, Ellen and her party arrived via taxi to the Voodoo Spiritual Temple on North Rampart, on the edge of the French Quarter. Ellen led the way inside the shop full of voodoo dolls, gris-gris bags, and other paraphernalia and was pleasantly surprised to see Priestess Isabel standing beside the counter with a can of Sprite in her hand. A young woman was with her, sitting on a stool near the cash register.

  “Well, hello friends,” Isabel said. “It’s been a while.”

  The high priestess didn’t appear a day older than she had looked the last time they’d seen her, over three years ago, which should make her about eighty. Her short curly hair and bright smile were exactly as Ellen remembered them.

  “Hello, Priestess Isabel,” Ellen said. “May I introduce our friend, Rich Falcon of Blackfeet Nation?”

  “Welcome to my humble place,” Isabel said.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rich said with a nod.

  “I see you brought a friend with you,” Isabel added.

  Ellen could tell from Isabel’s line of vision that the priestess wasn’t referring to Sue or Tanya. Could she see Rabbit in the white buffalo hide?

  Sue and Ellen told Isabel what they were doing in New Orleans, recounting everything that had happened in Montana, including the dream Ellen had had of the white buffalo and their recent encounter with Sidney Longfellow.

  “You’ve been busy,” she said with a laugh.

  A customer came in, so the priestess excused herself to talk with the young woman. The priestess handed a bottle to the assistant at the cash register, who took over from there.

  Isabel turned to Ellen. “Did you come to throw the bones?”

  “Do you have time?”
Ellen asked.

  “Follow me, my friends.”

  Isabel led them through her tiny, cluttered back office and into a courtyard filled with trees, herbs, and other plants. The courtyard had a table with two chairs at its center and was bordered by raised beds lined with pavers that served as extra seating.

  Isabel sat in one of the two chairs. “Who wants to throw first?”

  “I will,” Sue said as she sat across from the high priestess.

  The table was covered with a green fibrous cloth with yellow markings. The bones and shells lay scattered on the cloth. Sue, knowing what to do, scooped up the bones and shells, shook them in her hands, and asked, “How can we help Rabbit and Crow Woman?” Then she dropped the bones and shells on the cloth. One shell fell off the table.

  “Do you see an x on that one?” Isabel asked Tanya of the one that had fallen, since Tanya was closest to it.

  “No,” Tanya said.

  “Then we can ignore that one,” the priestess said. “Now, let’s look and see what we have here.”

  Isabel looked over each bone and shell, shaking her head.

  “What is it?” Sue asked.

  “I don’t think this spirit knows the answer to your question,” the priestess said. “But I think I’m channeling someone more powerful—maybe a Loa.”

  “Really?” Ellen asked from where she hovered over Sue.

  “The placement of this bone means trickery,” Isabel said. “And this one here suggests a party. I think this message has something to do with the masquerade benefit going on at the Federal Ballroom tonight.”

  “The Federal Ballroom?” Sue repeated. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s a seven-minute car ride from here,” Isabel said. “If I remember correctly, it’s being put on by the New Blue Foundation to raise money for autism. I think the bones are telling me that this Sidney Longfellow will be there.”

  Sue took out her phone and did a search. She tapped on the top result. “It’s five hundred dollars a ticket.”

  “Jiminy Crickets,” Rich Falcon said. “That’s a lot of money.”

 

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