Indian Moon

by Carolyn McCray

  “I handle the PR and legal groundwork for opening casinos on reservation lands. It’s a pretty lucrative gig.”

  “Our reservation has a casino now?”

  Black Feather shook his head. “No way. Too small a surrounding Anglo population to support it. Besides, I’ve seen what it can do to a community. Some handle it great, and it’s a boon. Others, well, they don’t do so well.”

  “Then why do you do it?”

  “Why not? Someone’s going to. The public wants it. The Indians want it. Why not get a fat commission off the deal? I bring home the money and fund this reservation. We get all the benefit and none of the bullshit.”

  Quinton sat silent for a moment. Black Feather had undergone as much a moral transformation as a physical one. His cousin was probably the only one that Quinton could remember who was more zealotous about Indian pride than he was when they were young.

  “But what about self-sufficiency? Not needing the Anglos?”

  “Everything has got its price. I chose this one. You chose another.”

  “Yes, but at least yours has some benefit. I’ve just been destroying that which I swore to protect.”

  Black Feather’s tone was deep and reverential. “Like the elders say, there is always time to balance the scales. Or does it go: stop whining and just do it?”

  Quinton chuckled. “I think that one is Nike’s slogan.”

  “Ah well. Pick whichever one works. But damn it, cousin, lighten up. If you’ve caused harm to this world, right it, but stop moping around.”

  Black Feather was right. There was nothing that he had done that he could not make up for. And Quinton planned to start with Regina. He never should have let her leave without him.

  “Do you have a cell-phone?”

  “Does a crow have feathers?” his cousin asked as he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a cell phone. “I take it that this is a local call?”

  “Yeah.”

  Quinton dialed the number from memory. How quickly he had learned Regina’s number. As the phone rang, Quinton prayed that she was home. He desperately needed to make amends. Quinton needed her to most of all understand how much she meant to him.

  ***

  Regina cringed as the phone rang as she entered the house. She did not need Wayne yelling at her to top off her night. Would the damn answering machine not pick up? Walking over to the table, Regina realized that she had forgotten to turn the machine on. Pushing the button quickly, as if it was a snake that was going to bite her, Regina heard the machine pick up the call. She knew that voice better than her own. It was Quinton, begging her to pick up the receiver.

  After the wrenching evening, Regina could not face talking to him. She could not stand one more ounce of hurt this night. Turning off the volume on the recorder and clicking off the ringer on the phone, Regina headed towards her bedroom. What she needed right now was some sleep. Hopefully everything would look better in the morning light.

  Passing Michael’s room, Regina found Fury curled up asleep on her son’s bed. She almost got past the door without the dog noticing her arrival, but Fury’s head perked up and spun around. Once the dog saw Regina, she leapt off the bed and began her usual welcome frenzy.

  Not in the mood for the dog’s antics, Regina ignored Fury and opened her bedroom door. Before she could stop the dog, the Doberman was through the door and onto the bed.

  “Get off, Fury!”

  Regina knew how Wayne hated dog fur in the bed. He would be furious if the sheets were covered in short, coarse black hair. “Now, Fury!”

  The dog feigned deafness and tried to burrow under the pillows. Regina had to grab Fury by the collar and drag her off the bed. Bodily, she had to shove the Doberman back out the door. Fury tried her best to weasel back in. “No, girl. Go to Michael’s room.”

  It took a moment and a few accurately placed soccer blocks, but Regina finally got the door shut with Fury on the other side of it. Even more exhausted than she was before, Regina crumpled onto the bed. Every ounce of energy she had was consumed. Regina was burnt out and hollow. She was so wasted by the day’s events that could not even cry herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER 10

  Quinton tried to focus on the report that Ralph and he were writing, but Regina occupied his thoughts. He had not gotten a single minute of sleep the night before. Black Feather had dropped him off near the back alley, and Quinton had slipped back into his room without detection, but none of that mattered. The only thing that concerned him was why Regina had not answered his calls. He had been hesitant to leave messages, but if it was the only way to get Regina’s attention, then it was worth the risk.

  Blind-sided by a pillow, Quinton was red-faced when he sat back up. “What in the hell was that for?”

  “Jesus. Finally, something got your attention. I asked, like a bizillion times about these damn salamanders. Are they really completely separate species or just sub-species?”

  “Put them down as two different species.”

  Ralph raised an eyebrow. “You sure? That’s kind of a gray area.”

  Quinton’s tone was crisp. “I’m sure.”

  His assistant only smiled and began typing into his computer. “Cool by me. That means twice as many threatened species of salamanders in Blue Mountain’s backyard.”

  Where once the idea of screwing Wayne as his company had thrilled Quinton, now it was a side-show. Regina occupied center stage. If he could not leave this damn room or make calls from it, how in the hell was he going to see her? Convince her that he truly had changed? That she could trust him?

  The sound of the phone ringing in Ralph’s room drifted through the wall. Quinton looked to his assistant, but the younger man did not move. “Going to answer that?”

  “Nay. Greta will forward it over here.”

  It was Quinton’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Ralph and the office manager were on first name basis now? Even in his current state of agitation, Quinton had to be impressed with Ralph’s social skills. The phone beside him rang almost immediately after the other phone stopped. Ralph picked it up and winked at Quinton. “Told ya.” Once on the phone, Ralph barely had time to get a word in edgewise. “Natalie! Whoa. What are you doing calling here?”

  Quinton went back to his work, letting the lovers have some privacy until he heard Ralph’s shout. “No friggin way! Shit, shit, shit. Thanks Natalie.”

  Slamming down the phone, Ralph ran to the window and checked outside. The younger man’s hands shook as he told Quinton the news. “They’ve got an arrest warrant on you, man. They should be here any minute.”

  “Bullshit,” Quinton said not believing his assistant. “All’s they’ve got are suspicions.”

  “Not any more.” Ralph jerked the door open and ran out to the truck. Quinton had to follow him outside if he wanted to hear the younger man’s explanation. “According to Natalie’s source, they found a torn-up shirt of yours at a crime scene.”

  “There’s no way.”

  “Yes, way. Look...” Ralph began tearing through the boxes in the back of the truck. “That shirt that you stained back in Spokane is missing.”

  “Shit,” Quinton said as he joined the search. “You mean the one with my damn name embroidered on the pocket?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Both men jerked upright at the same moment. Sirens blared in the near distance.

  “You’ve got to tell them, Quinton. To hell with chivalry, man. Regina has got to back you up.”

  Quinton knew that Regina would not even talk to him, let alone ruin her life to provide him with an alibi. “I can’t.”

  Ralph grabbed Quinton’s arm and pulled him around. “Hello. You are going to jail in a few short minutes. We don’t have time for another plan.”

  Maneuvering Ralph back into the hotel room before they caused too much of a commotion, Quinton headed to the bathroom.

  “This is not time for a potty break, Quinton. Come on. Call Regina or I will.”

  Qui
nton spoke to his assistant as he pried the bathroom window from its frame. “You will not. Go back to your room and tell them you have no idea where I went.”

  “Where in the hell are you going to go? This is a damn small town. They’ll find you, then charge you with resisting arrest.”

  Quinton punched out the aluminum screen. “Not unless they see me leave. Otherwise I was just out when they came by. Now get back to your room.”

  “Quinton, this is insane. Where are you going?”

  For a moment, Quinton wondered whether he could trust his assistant as he climbed out the window. “The reservation. They don’t have jurisdiction there. Hopefully, by the time they round up a federal officer, we’ll be able to sort this mess out and figure out who’s framing me.”

  Ralph’s face was etched with concern; then the young man’s face transformed into pure excitement. “You are the man! Damn, I can hardly wait to get back to the office and tell the others. You rule!”

  Even Quinton felt a bit of adrenaline as he checked the back alley. He hadn’t ducked out of a hotel in years. While he was truly concerned and even a bit intimidated by the trouble with the police here, Quinton could still feel the thrill of the chase. Yet another skill he had not lost in the intervening years. “Just take care of Hurricane.”

  Quinton immediately regretted saying anything because the Labrador took his words as a command and vaulted out the window. He tried to get the dog to go back in, but the sirens were right down the street. “I’ll take him. Now get over to your room before they get here.”

  Waiting until Ralph turned on his heel, Quinton sprinted down the alleyway with Hurricane nipping at his pant legs. Pushing the dog away, Quinton struck to the northeast. The reservation lands came down to a point only a few miles from town. If he could stick to the woods and keep Hurricane quiet, he might just make it. That is, of course, if his tribe agreed to harbor him. Quinton knew that he was leaning heavily on strained ties there. The last thing he wanted to do was bring trouble upon his family, but he knew equally well that he could not allow himself to be jailed. Indians did not fare well with the law around here.

  ***

  Regina sat in her front room and wished that she could cry, but no tears would come. She felt spent and ready to crack. Thank goodness the kids weren’t home. Regina had called Evan’s just to be sure that Michael really had made it there. Luckily, her son was still sleeping in with several other boys. Meryl was off to Portland on a spur of the moment Beanie Baby trip. It seemed there was a huge expo there, and Sabrina’s mother had gotten roped into taking half-a-dozen giggling pre-pubescent girls to the show. Regina did not envy that woman. Right now, if Regina had to listen to a single whine from a single child, she was certain that she would just implode. They would find nothing but a lump of burnt out tissue on the floor where she used to be.

  The phone rang, and Regina reluctantly picked up the phone. Wayne still hadn’t checked in yet, despite it being late afternoon, and she did not want him to have any ammunition. His secretary had called earlier in the day to let Regina know that her husband was going to be staying the weekend in Bend. Normally that news would have sent Regina into a hysterical fit. She would have complained, whined, or seethed with passive rage. Now Regina felt mainly numb and was vaguely glad that Wayne was not around to goad her.

  It was not her husband on the phone, though. It was Natalie. Regina did not even hear the younger women’s words. She just wanted to hang up and go back to her comfortable haze, but Natalie was insistent.

  “Have you heard anything I’ve said?”

  “No, not really. Look, I’m not in the mood --”

  “Quinton is on the lam, Regina!” Natalie’s voice through the receiver nearly ruptured Regina’s eardrums. Whether it was the volume or the news, Natalie had Regina’s full attention.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you. They just released Ralph from interrogation. They didn’t charge him with anything, but they’ve got evidence on Quinton.”

  Regina could not believe what she heard. It was one thing for the Sheriff to harangue the out-of-towners. It was quite another to arrest them. And what was Quinton doing running off anyway? He was innocent, or was he? Now that her faith had been shaken, Regina was certain of nothing.

  “What kind of evidence?”

  “Some stupid shirt. Ralph says it’s bullshit. That it’s a setup.”

  Regina mumbled something into the phone and let Natalie prattle on about Ralph’s ordeal at the police station. The wringing pain in her stomach started again as Regina tried to figure out what was going on. She had been so very sure that Quinton had nothing to do with the sabotage. Was she just blinded by lust or was he truly innocent? Suddenly, Regina had an overwhelming desire to know. She was tired of having so many questions with no answers.

  “Where did he go?” Regina asked.

  “Ralph says he doesn’t know, but I know he’s lying. So does the sheriff, but they couldn’t pry it out of him all day. Finally, Ralph’s company’s lawyer got him sprung since they didn’t have any evidence against him.”

  There was no doubt in Regina’s mind where Quinton had gone. A part of her wished that he had trusted her and come to her, but she knew that was just the old fantasy for she was sure that Quinton had gone home.

  “Natalie, I have to call you later.”

  “But I’m not done! You don’t know the lewd things that Dooley said to Ralph! We think the Sheriff’s a closet homo!”

  Regina had no desire to hear that story, and she had already grabbed the keys off the counter. “I’m sorry Natalie. I’ve gotta go.”

  Before her friend could respond, Regina hung up the phone and rushed out the door. She was out so quickly that not even Fury could beat her to the door. The dog whined inside the house, but Regina ignored the dog’s pleas. She had to do this on her own. Pulling out her map, Regina drove out of the driveway and headed straight to the reservation.

  ***

  Quinton’s feet were sore, but he had made it to the small settlement. Thank god the homes were not as far out as the potlatch. Quinton did not think he could have made it that far. Even Hurricane was panting up a storm after their day-long hike. Reluctantly, he climbed up the porch steps to his great aunt’s house. Before he could even knock, the door opened.

  Whispering Flower was already back in the kitchen as Quinton entered her home. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need...”

  The old woman just waved her hand in acknowledgment and went back to kneading the dough she was working on. “The Sheriff asked if he can search the reservation. The Elders have already declined. I’ve been making supper for you.”

  Why was he not surprised that word had already spread? Sometimes news travels too quickly in a small town. Sitting down at the small kitchen table, the same old one Whispering Flower had before he left, Quinton assessed the damage to his feet. Several blisters were already springing up and throbbing with complaint.

  “Nothing like a vision quest to hone your perspective,” the old woman said as she threw some flatbread into the oil.

  “It wasn’t quite a vision quest.”

  “No, then what was it?” Before Quinton could retort, the old woman spoke with authority. “Tell me. What did you dwell on more during the walk. This silly problem with the Sheriff --”

  “It’s not silly, Whispering Flower. This is serious.”

  His great Aunt just scoffed and continued her statement. “Or Regina? Hmmm? Which is it?”

  Quinton stared down as he massaged his feet. He knew that if the old woman saw his eyes, she would know the truth in his heart. The whole way here, he had agonized over Regina. The Sheriff was but a thorn in his side. The pain over Regina festered in his soul. But he did not want to discuss all of that right now. He did have a few worldly concerns that needed to be tended to. “Auntie, you know that I didn’t commit the sabotage.”

  “You are many things, Quinn. A petty vandal is no
t one of them. If you had really wanted to hurt Blue Mountain, you could have just vetoed their permits.”

  Quinton sat down at the table with its checked covering. The air smelled good with the scent of flat bread drifting from the stovetop. It reminded him so strongly of his childhood that it was hard to imagine all the grief that had intervened. “That’s what I was in the process of doing when we got the call that the Sheriff was on his way over. Do you think they know I was betraying our deal? Is that why they are setting me up?”

  “Troubles such as that come and go like the tide, Quinton. It’s your heart you should be worrying over.”

  He did not need his Aunt to remind him of this fact. “It’s kind of out of my hands.”

  Whispering Flower threw another piece of dough into the sizzling hot oil. The pan crackled and popped as the old woman scolded Quinton. “Do not play the victim with me, young man. How can Regina reconcile who you are when you do not know yourself?”

  Quinton was momentarily upset with Black Feather for telling their aunt about his private life, but he knew this was the way on the reservation. Everyone knew everyone else’s business. It was a source of great comfort and annoyance. “It’s a little more involved than that.”

  “When is the last time you performed a cleansing ritual? When is the last time you viewed your own soul? It gets no more involved than that.”

  As much as he hated to admit it, Quinton knew that Whispering Flower was right. He had been ping-ponging his way through the last few days. He needed some time to just be with himself and try to sort out all the crap that was welling up inside of him. “Do I have time before dinner to swing by the longhouse?”

  “Yes. Just be sure to be back here by eight. The Elders would like to meet with you at eight thirty. Until then, your time is your own.”

  Rising up, Quinton patted Hurricane’s head. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”