Alice 1

by Ernest Kinnie

  They were impressed, and by the end of the day Molly was almost as good as me.

  Surprise! Skinny Santa came by and told us to pack for 2 or 3 days. We’re going treasure hunting in Colorado.

  CHAPTER 7

  We flew San Francisco to Denver to Leadville and arrived mid-morning. Rented a van, bought a shovel and crowbar, and spent the rest of the day walking around the old mining town.

  I toured the fancy Victorian where Baby Doe lived with her husband Horace Tabor, the Silver King. When the price of silver crashed he lost all his money, his fancy mansion in Denver, the Victorian in Leadville, and died. She spent the rest of her days living in a shack out at Tabor’s old silver mine. He swore one day the Matchless Mine would see riches once again. It didn’t.

  Ashara, long curls flying, came running around a corner, gave me a kiss, slapped an envelope in my hand, and ran away. How did she get from Sausalito to Leadville, and why me? Inside was an old photograph of Baby Doe in rags, standing by the shack at the Matchless Mine. She had been so rich, so beautiful.

  BABY DOE TABOR

  And as I looked at that sad photograph, I flashed to an old Indian woman. I don’t know where the flashes come from or why.

  KANTI

  Kanti is sitting by a worn out canvas tent making a pair of snowshoes. She was the ghost singer for the Blackfoot before the tribe was herded onto the Reservation. Sometimes she hums a love song and remembers the days of long ago, camped along the Swiftcurrent with Khoo-ii.

  She was posing for a white man. He didn’t promise to pay much, and didn’t even give her that. Just laughed, got on his horse, and started to ride away. She sang the Song of the Sta’au, and the horse stumbled. The lying bastard fell and broke his neck.

  ____________________

  That evening we headed West over Tennessee Pass, down the winding road to a long, narrow valley. Half-way down the valley there were a couple of old, broken down cabins on the South side of the road. We drove behind one and cut the lights.

  “Ok, we’re looking for a metal box, around 4 by 12 by 12. It’s probably hidden inside the walls or under the floorboards in one of the cabins. Alice, Johnny and I will search this cabin. Maggie, Molly and Linda go do the other.”

  Half the roof was gone so light from the moon was good enough. We went around the walls of the room then back and forth across the floor. Ah, something under the floor boards. Nah, just a bunch of nails. Heard a car and froze. The highway patrol didn’t even slow down.

  Maggie came over from the other cabin. They think they found it. Used the crowbar on a floorboard, and there it was. No lock but the lid was rusted so Santa had to pull hard to open it, and a few sheets of paper scattered on the floor. They were filled with names and addresses.

  “Yeah, this is it. Put the floorboard back and let’s get out of here.” Well in the movies this is when bad guys show up with grins and guns. Nope.

  Santa answered a few questions on the way back to Carmel. Camp Hale was in the long valley back in the 50’s, home to the 10th Mountain Division. They trained Special Forces and airborne troops in mountain and cold weather warfare. The two cabins were a nice perk for Army generals who wanted a few days relief from the heavy grind of leadership. They landed on the camp airstrip and were taken over to the cabins across the road, nicely isolated from the rest of the camp.

  The cabins were of course generously stocked with food, hunting and fishing equipment, and lots of booze. There were rumors pretty girls were available on request. General Reed hid the box in the cabin right before the camp closed and the 10th moved to Fort Drum.

  Santa did not tell us what was so valuable about the names and addresses, and was gone a couple of days.

  ____________________

  Santa and I had a little talk when he came back. I love him to death but don’t fly blind like this. I need to know more about what I’m getting suckered into. He agreed and we all met for lunch on the veranda.

  “A couple of weeks ago the Pentagon learned General Reed, back in the late 50’s, had the names and addresses of our spies in Czechoslovakia and East Germany and was planning to sell them to the Soviets. He died before he could do that. The lists could still cause trouble because old spies can be blackmailed, prosecuted, and they and their families killed for revenge.

  “So when the Army heard about the lists they went to visit a couple of General Reed’s daughters. One of them remembered that just before he died, he went to Camp Hale with a bunch of papers in a metal box. The army sent out a search team but found nothing. They called us because we have an excellent reputation for finding things.

  “And you need to know about the Vigilantes. As you can guess from the name, they use the Gift to right the wrongs of the world. They work out of a small village on the southern edge of Glacier National Park just outside the Blackfoot Indian Reservation, so we call them the Glacier Gang. Sometimes we don’t get along too well because we consider them wild-west gunslingers and they consider us fat, lazy drones wasting our gift on trifles. We try to keep on decent terms because we don’t want to find out what a war between us would be like. Good enough, Alice?”

  “Yeah, at least for now. Thanks.”

  “And I have an announcement. The Glacier Gang has asked for help on a mission. They’ve never done that before. Alice, would you come with me to Glacier? You’ll be my lie detector.”

  “Sure, as long as I get a tour. I’ve heard Glacier National Park is incredibly beautiful and wanted to go for a long time.”

  “Good. Pack for 3 or 4 days. We leave tomorrow, six in the morning.”

  “Any other questions? Johnny?”

  “Do people we work for know about Shadow hands?”

  “No. They just consider us very competent, except for Karla. He’s an old friend and works out of UC Berkeley. I’m pretty sure Karla is CIA.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Skinny Santa and I flew from San Francisco to Denver to Great Falls. Arrived mid-afternoon, rented a car, and drove to East Glacier.

  The Glacier Gang live in what used to be an old hunting camp, with ten or so cottages surrounding a large, main lodge. All natural wood, with weathered brown and grey cedar shingles on the roof and sides.

  David, a handsome young man, opened the door and led down a corridor to a large room with a high ceiling and big stone fireplace. Brightly colored blankets here and there, pictures of the old west on the wall, and sculptures of cowboys and Indians scattered around. David said they’re all Russell and Remington originals, and the blankets are Navajo. Whatever else these weird people are, they are not poor.

  Ruth and Betty were so open with their emotions and gave me big hugs. Doris is maybe in her early 50’s and appears to be the leader. Her hug was warm enough, but was obviously checking me out. The two guys shook hands, no hugs. Ralph’s maybe in his 60’s, a bit stand-offish, suspicious even. Probably their lie detector. I liked David as soon as I looked into his eyes when he opened the door. It’s been a while, and I’m not much for solo.

  “Where’s Stephen?” Santa asked.

  “He died a month ago,” Doris answered. “We buried him down by the creek, beneath the giant Ponderosa he loved. We miss him.

  “Thank you for coming. You’ve been invited for two reasons. One, to help out on a little mission. More importantly, I want our two groups to get to know each other better. There have been problems between us over the years, maybe even bad feelings. I regret that.”

  “I regret that as well, Doris. You and I have always gotten along and from the bottom of my heart I hope that continues. There are so few of us. What a shame we can’t be friends, visit sometimes, and support each other.” Everybody nodded.

  “Ok, here’s the deal. There’s a bunch of cyber-thieves in Cut Bank preying on the elderly. My mother was one of their victims. You and I are very good fire starters and around nine tomorrow evening we’re going to fry their computers. Their offices are on the ground floor of a two-story, commercial building on the edge of tow
n. No night watchman, and cops go home early in Cut Bank. Alice and David will be lookouts.”

  “I’m in. How about it, Alice?”

  “Sure, as long as I get to see Glacier.”

  “That will be no problem,” Doris said. “David knows the park very well, and I’m sure will want to share his love with you. Ok, we leave for Cut Bank tomorrow evening around six. This evening we have reservations for dinner at the East Glacier Lodge. Hungry?”

  I think I get the big view. Doris figures getting David and me involved is a good way to get a friendship going between our groups. Good thinking. He doesn’t look all that experienced so I’ll play innocent. Then shock the hell out of him.

  Well no. Hell isn’t really what I have in mind.

  On the way to the lodge David gave the history. It’s one of the large, magnificent hotels railroads build in National Parks throughout the West at the beginning of the 20th century to encourage people to ride the rails. In Glacier one is at Lake McDonald, one here at East Glacier, and the grandest of them all at Many Glacier. They’re Swiss Style, built by the Great Northern around 1913.

  Well, this one is grand enough for me. A flower lined promenade starts at the railway station and ends at a large 4-story, u-shaped building, framed by high mountains. The inside is as rustic and beautiful as the outside, and I can see why the Blackfoot call it the Big Tree Lodge.

  Click East Glacier Lodge, and take a look.

  CHAPTER 9

  The next morning I got up early and walked over to the kitchen. Brrr! Northern Montana in August is colder than Hell. Odd phrase. Might put the fear of damnation into a few Eskimos.

  I hope Ruth and Betty are there so I can get a little girl talk. Nope, but Ralph is sitting at a table by the window. I’ll do my innocent, dumb dance. He watched as I walked over and got my coffee. His eyes are kind of weird. Not crazy weird, more like he’s having a deep conversation with himself.

  He looked me over though, so he’s still alive. No leer or anything, just what guys do. The poor dears can’t help it, they’re hardwired. Some women say they hate being looked at. Oh yeah, sure! And of course they never look at guys.

  Bunch of uptight, prissy hypocrites!

  “Good morning Ralph, do you mind if I join you? Where are Ruth and Betty?”

  “They should be along soon, they sleep in sometimes.” He took a sip of coffee and leaned over.

  “How do you feel about tonight?”

  “Should be easy. You must go on a lot of missions.”

  “Yeah, I used to. Not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  He paused a moment. “I’m beginning to wonder if we did more harm than good.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Do you know about unintended consequences?”

  “No. What are they?”

  “Why are you lying?”

  “Because I don’t know you, and I’ve found it’s best to play dumb female at first. It works great most of the time, but not with handsome, super-sensitive guys like you.” He laughed.

  “Ok, let’s reboot as they say in the computer trade. Just before you came I was sitting here drinking my coffee, and wondering if even the missions we thought turned out well may have had bad unintended consequences. We were so full of ourselves, so self-righteousness.”

  Is this going to be a philosophical dissertation or an appeal for forgiveness? I’m not much for either. Thank God Ruth and Betty came in, but then felt bad when Ralph got up and left. Like I had let him down.

  The two women were friendly and I got the skinny. Ralph has been weird since Stephen died. They were very, very close. I guess my ego got in the way when I thought he was looking me over, or maybe he swings both ways. Ruth and Betty sleep with each other, and David visits sometimes. Doris doesn’t seem to need that sort of thing.

  They won’t be jealous if David and I get it on. He makes it sometimes with the girls over at the Lodge. The headquarters of The Great Northern Railway is in St. Paul, right next to the University of Minnesota. The Great Northern still owns the lodge and hires kids from the University to work summers.

  ____________________

  We got to Cut Bank around nine in the evening and parked a couple of blocks from the Commercial building.

  “When no one’s watching, go into the woods over there and circle to the back of the building.”

  There are a lot of bushes to hide behind, and Greg and Doris came a few minutes later. They put on gloves, zipped the lock, and went in.

  Oh No! A car came around the corner and parked. Should we warn them? David motioned to keep quiet and my head down. The guy got out of the car and walked toward the building. About ten feet from the door he fell unconscious to the ground.

  “Great god, how did you do that?” We carried him behind some bushes.

  “He’ll be out for around half an hour.”

  When we all got back to the car we saw smoke coming out of a window. Opps, a little too much heat. Doris called the local fire department on her cell phone, and few minutes later two fire trucks arrived. A fireman smashed the glass in the front door and 5 or 6 ran in. I guess the sirens woke the guy in the back because soon after the fire trucks arrived he came around the corner waving his arms in the air.

  The next morning we went to the website of The Pioneer Press.

  FIRE IN LOCAL BUSINESS

  Last night around 9:35 The Financial Planner, a local business at 2243 Main Drive, sustained a loss of all of their computers. A short in one of the computers caused a minor fire that was quickly put out by the Cut Bank Fire Department. Ms. Collins, owner of The Financial Planner, was unavailable for comment.

  CHAPTER 10

  A quick breakfast, and off to Glacier with David. We stopped at the little store at Two Medicine and got a Glacier Park specialty, soft huckleberry ice cream.

  Click Two Medicine Lake.

  Then started on the trail around the Lake. Held hands the first quarter mile, arms around each other the second, behind some rocks the third. Yes, I shocked him, and very happy to report that Hell is not what came out.

  And if I shocked you, please accept my sincerest apology.

  You are so wonderfully sensitive and refined.

  Go watch a nice comedy on TV.

  Every summer in the old days, Blackfoot shaman came from the high plains to practice two kinds of medicine. David took me over to where their teepees stood beside the lake.

  TWO MEDICINE LAKE

  “Imagine a radio dial but instead of tuning in stations go back in time.”

  I closed my eyes and moved the dial. Easy. I watched guys build the store, and then a crew build the road. A few more twists of the dial and I saw a one-eyed Indian and a white guy on horses, looking out over the lake. The Indian has long, black hair tied in a big bun on top of his head. The white guy has reddish-brown hair, blue eyes and is clean shaven. I thought all those old mountain men had beards. Wonder why he looks so familiar.

  I moved the dial again and saw three Indians sitting around a small fire, eyes closed, humming and swaying. One was the one-eyed Indian with the white guy. He suddenly opened his eye and saw me.

  “Get the hell out of here!”

  Of course I didn’t understand the words but the message was clear, and I dialed back to the present. I got a wonderful imagination.

  David and I sat for a while by the side of the lake, listening to water lap rock and watching birds skim for bugs. He pointed to a large mountain on the north shore.

  RISING WOLF

  “That mountain is called Rising Wolf, Hugh Monroe’s Indian name, a white guy who lived among the Blackfoot around 1845. He liked to be called Hughie. When he died his friends buried him on the mountain, nobody knows where.”

  “Ok, that’s Interesting, and now something even more interesting. How did you put that guy to sleep?”

  “I was wondering when you were going to ask. Do you know any neuroanatomy, like what the brain stem does?”

  “No”<
br />
  “Ok. At the top of the spinal cord is a bulb like structure called the brain stem. It has three parts, and one of them puts you to sleep. Just follow the spine to the bulb at the top with your Shadow hands, and give it a tiny squeeze.”

  “What happens if you give it a big squeeze?”

  “Not so good. I once squeezed a mountain jay hard to see what would happen, and the poor bird dropped dead. That hurt. The mountain jay is my totem bird. There is a wide safety zone though and I’ve never killed anything else. It’s sort of true the harder you squeeze the longer they sleep, but that varies a lot from animal to animal. Not so much for humans.”

  “Sounds dangerous. Not sure I want to do that.”

  “The Squeeze can be very handy.”

  “Good point. Ok, let me try.”

  “See the squirrel over there? Go to the top of the spine with your Shadow hands, feel the bulb, and give it a squeeze.”

  Nothing.

  “A little harder.”

  The poor thing keeled over. God, what a power surge, and that scares the hell out of me. Power corrupts, somebody said.

  “I don’t want to, David. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Nah. Just don’t squeeze hard and you’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t mean that, I mean the power. I’m afraid it will twist me into a monster.”

  “Yeah, I remember the warning from Lord Acton, ‘Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.’ Notice he said ‘tends to corrupt’. Not letting power corrupt is one of the challenges of your life. You can’t run away.”

  “Kind of preachy David, but good advice. Ok, make me a promise. If you see monster horns start to grow on top of my head, splash a big glass of ice water across my face.”

  “Agreed, if you do the same for me.”

  “Agreed.”

  So I accept the burden and glory of power. He’s right, I have no choice.

  We ate a sack lunch by the lake, and then got a couple more delicious, double dip huckleberry ice cream cones. Spent the rest of the day walking around, enjoying each other and the wonderful mountains and lake. Even saw a wolverine.