Bush Blues

by Sheldon Schmitt

  Snow also wondered about Charlie Johnson. It did not seem likely that Charlie would kill Bullshit Bob, but he was certainly crazy enough, especially when he was drunk. Snow smiled as he thought that Charlie might bite him but would not shoot him. His gut said, No, not Charlie.

  Snow stopped the four-wheeler. He stretched his legs and pulled out a smoke as he leaned against the fender. The sun was getting low in the southern sky over the water. It was a beautiful evening. No wind, no bugs yet.

  Snow dropped his lighter and bent over to pick it up. A shot rang out, and a bullet clinked off the handle of the ATV.

  Snow dove into the muskeg as another shot rang out. A bullet whizzed by. It sounded like it just missed him. Snow was unsure where the shots were coming from, but his instincts told him they were coming from the east. He wormed his way down into a wet bog, a low spot in the muskeg.

  He saw an overhang above a stagnate pool of brown, scummy water. Snow quickly waded in. The water was cold and stinky and only a few feet deep. He slithered under the overhang. Just his head, neck, and shoulders were above water. He was well hidden. Now what?

  He hid, cold and numb under the water, for what seemed like hours. He did not know if he could wait it out until dark. He was sure that Buck Nelson had tried to shoot him. Snow felt stupid. He had exposed himself. But, the truth was, it was the kind of country that was so wide open that if you wanted to ambush someone, you could do it easily. Or just kill him and let the wolves eat him. If you were out on a boat, you could push people overboard, sure as sunrise they were dead from exposure. You could stuff a body in a crab pot and let the sand fleas do the job. Or you could stuff a body in a place like this, thought Snow.

  Snow listened alertly. He became familiar with the noises out there. He was sure he would hear if someone tried to find him. He did not want to poke his head out to take a look until it was dark. Patience was what he needed. He fought the urge to get out of his hidey-hole. He tried to think warm thoughts. Thinking about Lilly helped.

  The sky finally started to darken. Snow was numb and still thinking about Lilly to try and stay warm. He was going to go see her as soon as he got out of this mess, if he did.

  He did not think anyone was still lying in wait for him. No one is that patient, are they? He heard a noise.

  “Snow, is it ye?”

  Snow stuck his head out from the overhang.

  “Kinka! Am I happy to see you!” Snow sloshed out of his hiding place. Kinka of the Little People was standing above the water on a little rise. He held an old-fashioned lantern. He was smiling.

  “I thought perhaps ye was shot dead, Snow. I see you are in one piece. Ye seem to find trouble,” Kinka said, smiling.

  Snow sloshed and staggered up the slope. His legs were like rubber. He rubbed his knees, trying to get some blood moving in his legs. Kinka held out his hand, and Snow grabbed hold. Kinka gave him a pull, and Snow flew up the incline and landed in a heap. Kinka was extraordinarily strong. Kinka smiled again as Snow got to his feet.

  “You seem to show up at the most opportune times. You see anyone around here? You already know someone took a shot at me,” Snow said.

  “The fat gussok that looks and smells like a bear. He shot at ye. It is good that ye smoke, or ye might be dead. He does not know if he got ye or not, but he left.”

  Snow checked the four-wheeler. It looked like a bullet had struck the left handlebar. The brake lever was hanging at a funny angle. It started right up and he shut it off. He stood and looked at Kinka, who had on the same clothing as when he rescued Snow by the lake after the grizzly attack. But Kinka looked remarkably clean and fresh for a three-foot-tall representative of the Little People. And he somehow looked younger than before.

  “Now what?” he asked Kinka.

  “You go get him, the big bear. You know how to shoot a bear. I saw you do it before,” Kinka said, still smiling.

  Snow thought about it. “We can’t do that. I can’t do that. I have to arrest him and charge him for a crime. I guess I would not mind shooting him, though. I think he killed Bullshit Bob, Kinka.”

  “Yah. That is true. He is a bad man. You should go shoot him, I think. He needs to be shot, don’t you agree?”

  Why yes certainly, thought Snow. But first a shower. Then Lilly.

  “You ever ride a four-wheeler, Kinka?”

  Kinka’s eyebrows shot up.

  “No.”

  Snow put the little man on the front of the four-wheeler and started the machine. Kinka had an expression like a child. Snow jumped on behind him and they putt-putted down the trail. Snow stopped short of town and Kinka got off, waved goodbye and was gone. Snow wondered if he would ever see the little man again.

  CHAPTER 12

  SNOW

  Anchorage in 1980 was a pretty exciting place. Lanny Brady was standing at the bar, drinking a beer. She watched the small spider monkeys swinging on the branches behind the bar. She laughed, beautiful when she threw her hair back off her face. She had even, white teeth, a nice smile, and long, thick black hair that reached all the way down her back. She was twenty-one on this snowy day in downtown Anchorage at the Monkey Wharf Bar. The monkeys looked like they were laughing with her in their home in the long plate-glass cage behind the bar.

  It was late. The bar was smoky and filled mostly with white men. There were some women in the bar, most of them Native. The Monkey Wharf was a tourist attraction during the summer months. During the winter it was a working man’s bar. And a bar frequented by Natives. Strong drinks were served. It could be a rough and rowdy place.

  Three white men hovered around Lanny like hungry wolves. Lanny did not seem the least bit worried. She was wonderfully drunk and feeling good. It was the only time she had felt good lately. She moved from Sitka almost a year earlier to attend nursing college. She had done well at first; she was smart and had a good education from the native boarding school she attended, Mount Edgecombe in Sitka.

  But Lanny became bored with school. She met some other Native girls and they started to go out and party. It was a hilarious good time. They hit the bars on 4th Avenue in Anchorage and always had a great night. Lanny was not sure what had changed. Things did change, though. Soon she had new friends who she hung out with downtown all the time. She loved to drink. It made her feel warm and happy. But she had terrible hangovers and her grades went south fast. She dropped out of school after her second semester. Lanny moved downtown with two of her new friends.

  Money was tight, but Lanny found out that men were very willing to buy her drinks. She enjoyed the fun, the men, and mostly the drinking. She knew she could not live like this and began to feel guilty. But she also felt young and free. She did not sleep with the men who bought her drinks like her girlfriends did. Her friends got money and gifts from men. And alcohol.

  One night, Lanny got very high. The people she knew at the bar were gone, and she did not even notice. She felt happy and warm. When the men suggested she come with them to another bar, she said sure. When she got up to leave she almost fell, but the nice men helped her by the arm and walked her out of the bar.

  Lanny only vaguely remembered what happened in the parking lot. It was dark. There was snow drifting down sweet and soft. One of the men started to kiss her as he leaned her against the side of the pickup. She tried to say no but was too high. Next thing she knew, she was down on the seat of the truck. Hands were taking her pants and panties off. She was too drunk to offer much resistance. The men took turns with her. It went fast, and it hurt.

  When the men were done, they pulled her off the seat. Two of the men were in a hurry to leave. Cliff Johnson helped her pull up her pants. He stuck some money in her pocket and left her leaning against another truck in the parking lot. Cliff did not like what they had done and pitied Lanny. He knew he needed to leave despite how he felt about what happened. He got into the truck with the others, and they left.

  Lanny Brady never knew which of the three men who raped her was the father of her baby.
The day the child was born was crisp and calm and pure from fresh snowfall. She would name her child Snow. Brady Snow.

  His father was Cliff Johnson.

  Bill Tuzzy flagged down Chief Snow at the yellow police station. Snow had the walrus head and alcohol still strapped to the four-wheeler.

  “You better come to the airport, Chief. I think they might need you out there. Hey, you shoot a walrus? Har har!”

  Shit, thought Snow. I’m still wet. He quickly stowed the heavy walrus head and booze. He decided to take the truck. He was cold. He arrived at the airport as the plane landed. There was a crowd of people there to meet the plane. As Snow got out of his truck, Smally, who was always ready to bum a smoke or ask for some coffee, was waiting.

  God knows what Smally is doing out here, thought Snow. Smally barked, his greasy jar in hand, “Smoke?”

  The crowd seemed to have a purpose about it. It was not the normal milling around of folks simply waiting on a flight. The people stood in a group. He saw Mayor Moses, Toovak and the Beans brothers standing in the crowd.

  Snow fished out a couple smokes and gave them to Smally.

  The indomitable Chubby Libbit was the pilot. Chubby spun the tail around neatly and parked the plane with a flourish. He looked like an Alaska bush pilot, all right. He wore the hat with the scrambled eggs and his pilot sunglasses and bomber jacket. Chubby scrambled down the wing of the plane backwards, ass in the wind.

  Snow approached Toovak, who had eased to the edge of the crowd, so they could talk in relative privacy.

  “What’s up, Nasruk? Fresh produce on that plane or something?”

  Toovak’s smile came and went in a blink of an eye. His gaze was steady on the plane, but then he nodded at Snow’s shabby appearance. “Eee! What happened to you?”

  “I fell into Hepatitis Lake when I was dumping a honey bucket.” Snow smiled as Toovak moved a half-step away.

  “Supposed to be alcohol on the plane,” said Toovak.

  “Do we have any solid information that people on that plane have alcohol? You know the law.”

  “No. But people came to the Mayor Moses. They are pissed off and want to search people when they come into the village. People are tired of the booze and the bad things,” Toovak said.

  “Do we know who is on there?”

  “Eee! People with booze,” Toovak said dryly.

  Black Billy got off the plane and looked anxiously around as he joked with Chubby, who was whipping bags onto the ground like they were on fire. Black Billy was at least half black and more than half bootlegger.

  Moses stepped up and made an announcement for all to hear. He said that the village of Togiak was going to search anyone entering the village for alcohol. Starting right now. They certainly picked a good time to start, thought Snow. Black Billy was as likely as anyone to have alcohol in his baggage. There must have been a rumor, or someone leaked the info that a shipment of alcohol was coming. There were other passengers on the plane as well, but no one looked too nervous except Billy.

  Black Billy was wily. He was from some city in the lower forty-eight. He had many brushes with the law and knew his rights, all right. Since Snow first came to the village, he had been trying to catch Black Billy bootlegging, with nothing to show for it.

  “I know my rights. You ain’t searching anything without a search warrant. I need to see a piece of paper. You got a warrant, Snow?”

  Well, we have a situation now, don’t we? thought Snow. Legally, Billy was in the right. There was such a thing as the Fourth Amendment to the Constitution and all that. But morally the villagers had a point. The crowd looked at Snow. He walked over to Black Billy and faced Mayor Moses, Nasruk Toovak, Stanley Beans, and the rest of the village folk.

  Snow knew the law, too. It was called “local option” under state law. Native villages could outlaw alcohol. And some villages had gone so far as to search all people coming in. Although it not clear whether alcohol seized under these circumstances could lead to prosecutable cases, the searches themselves had so far been upheld by the courts.

  “This is the sovereign village of Togiak. If the elders say we search everyone for alcohol, then we search everyone for alcohol!”

  The crowd cheered.

  Snow told Black Billy that he was seizing his bags pending the decision of the elders.

  “Oh Jeezus! Just take the shit, Snow! Those crazy old Eskimos will just get it later anyways. You know what you’re doing ain’t legal! You know it!”

  Black Billy hurriedly opened his bags and produced about a dozen plastic bottles of cheap vodka. The bottles had duct tape around the tops. Black Billy knew all the tricks. He had opened the bottles and squeezed all the air out, then resealed them with duct tape. That way, you could not hear sloshing noises if you shook the bags.

  “That’s it, Snow. That’s all I gots,” Billy said like he was pissed at the inconvenience. Billy was starting to close up his big, black duffle. Snow stopped him and searched the bag. He found a half-gallon of Smirnoff vodka.

  “Hmm. The good stuff,” remarked Chief Snow.

  “God dammit! That was for me!” Billy said.

  Everyone nearby smirked. Snow heard a “haw haw” he knew to be Tuzzy.

  Snow was surprised to see Lilly by the plane. She was looking at him with a small smile on her lips. She held out her bag to Snow. He understood immediately what Lilly was up to. He had to search everyone to make it fair, and she was prodding him to search her bags too.

  He quickly looked through her bag and could not help but notice some silky garments in there. Several of the men craned their necks as he moved her clothing around. Lilly and he exchanged a sexy, lusty glance. Then she looked down demurely. What a woman!

  After Snow had searched everyone, the show was almost over. He decided to make a final production out of the already made-for-TV event. He felt that the drama would be good for everyone in this moment. Besides, the case would never be prosecuted, and Snow definitely did not want the alcohol sitting in the flimsy closet that served as an evidence room at the little, yellow, tin-shack police department. Better to be rid of it now.

  He waved Moses over to witness as he dumped all the alcohol out on the side of the runway. People watched and cheered. Chubby’s face, though, was screwed up with agony. Snow handed Mayor Moses the big bottle of good vodka. For a second, Snow thought Moses was going to take a pull off the jug.

  Black Billy moaned as Moses dumped the big bottle of alcohol on the ground with a flourish.

  “No alcohol in the village of Togiak!” he said, seizing the political moment.

  Frank N Beans was standing close by and had something to say. “Muk anuk fuck ingsihekjnn touk fuck shit Black Billie boosh!” He seemed to choke and spit out words that no one understood, but the sentiment was understood by all. Everyone laughed and cheered. Frank smiled, showing almost all ten of his teeth.

  No matter what happens, this alcohol is not going to cause any harm to this village, thought Snow.

  The PA was waiting to give Lilly a ride to town. She told him she already had a ride, and he looked puzzled, like she was speaking Japanese. She left him standing there as she got in with Snow. She has sand, thought Snow. Toovak, who did not miss much, gave the chief an odd, secret smirk as he walked to his truck.

  Snow carried Lilly’s bag into her room in the clinic. He shut the door behind him and grabbed her and kissed her on the mouth. She had her hands on his chest as if to push him away but definitely did not push him away. In fact, she kissed him back hotly.

  “I saw your underwear,” he whispered.

  “I’m not wearing any,” she said and smiled coyly. Snow stammered and she kissed his mouth to shut him up. He put his hands on her shapely little butt. Now she did push him away and said, “Are you going to ask me to marry you, or what? You touch me like I’m your wife.”

  Snow was speechless again for a minute as he stared into the depths of her beautiful brown eyes.

  “I want to see you later,”
he said.

  “Go clean up. You stink,” Lilly said.

  Snow left. He had fallen for Lilly. But can it work? She was Native, he was . . . truthfully he did not know what he was. He was a cop, and that made things even more complicated.

  Snow came out of the shower at the police station and heard noise in the kitchen.

  “Help yourself to coffee, Smally,” he called in the general direction of the kitchen. He came out wearing boxer shorts and drying his hair. Trooper Debbie eyed him up and down. She stared at his scars and everything else. Trooper Dick was helping himself to some coffee.

  “You look different. Uglier, somehow,” Snow said to Trooper Dick.

  “You living here now, Chief?”

  “Sometimes it feels like it.”

  “If you’re living here, how come I couldn’t get ahold of you yesterday? Out with your girlfriend? Where’s your creamer? This coffee’s for shit. You ever lock your door?” Trooper Dick said like he was shooting bullets at a target.

  “Well, the door needs fixing, like just about everything else around here. It locks, but if you push hard it opens right up,” said Snow.

  “Just like Mattress Mary,” Trooper Dick and Snow said at the same time.

  Trooper Dick opened and shut cabinets, then the old, battered fridge. He found the can of condensed milk and inspected it closely. There was dried yellow milk around the knife hole in the top. It was not brown, anyway. Trooper Dick pulled his lips tight and, with resignation, dumped the questionable canned milk into his coal-black coffee.

  Snow told them what happened on his way back from the lodge. He opened the locked closet that served at the evidence room and went to put on a dry uniform.

  “That’s a pretty nice walrus head. You could get a couple thousand bucks for that in the lower forty-eight. I suppose Peetook got a couple jugs for it, aye?” said Trooper Dick.