Charlie’s head was awhirl by the time he returned to the office. While it was probably out of the question, he couldn’t help pondering the possibilities of the professor’s offer, and was irritated when the phone rang. Looking through the open door, he saw the receptionist still was not back from lunch. She hadn’t been too happy at his own late return and was probably paying him back. The Mud Clan people are not ones to forget a disservice.
He sighed, punched the button. “Legal Services, Yazzie speaking.”
“Charlie, it’s Billy Red Clay.” The tribal officer sounded somewhat agitated, unusual for the laid-back policeman.
There was static and, there for a moment, Charlie thought he might have inadvertently dropped the connection. Billy Red Clay must be patched through from his vehicle. “Yeah, Billy, I hear you now… got something for us on Lucy Tallwoman’s daughter?”
“This isn’t about Alice Harney, Charlie.” The policeman’s tone said it might be something even more serious. “I’ve just received word that Anita Ponyboy was found dead a short while ago. I’m on my way out there now.” Again there was a pause. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I might find Harley, would you? I had a man out at their place earlier, but he said it didn’t look like they’d been there for a while. A neighbor told him they were separated, but he didn’t know where either of them were at the moment.”
Charlie was stunned and took a few seconds to digest the information. “How did she die?” Charlie expected to hear there had been an automobile accident, a common enough thing on the reservation.
“Well…” the officer sounded uncertain, “I’m not really clear on the details as yet, but Charlie… it sounds like someone killed her… a knife maybe… but she’d taken a beating first.”
“Where did they find her, Billy? She’d been staying with her mother and father over at Kirtland.”
“About a mile from Johnny Deboe’s place, just off the road, along the river. I should be there in a few minutes… I’ll get back to you after I’ve reported in.” Billy paused to hit the lights, and the radio crackled and popped. “Oh, FBI Agent Eldon Mayfield is on his way, too, though it’s going to take him a while longer. He’s gathering his usual batch of forensic people. I guess local law have the area secured,” he laughed. “I’ll be lucky if they let me in––they think it’s off the reservation. I’m not so sure about that, though. Johnny’s place is just on the line as I recall, and the river takes a little jog about there. This may be in our ballpark after all.”
Charlie frowned at the mention of Eldon Mayfield, who had been posted to the Four Corners less than a year ago. Charlie thought the FBI agent had brought his big city attitude with him. To Charlie’s way of thinking, he still had quite a way to go when it came to understanding the reservation. “Well, I wish you luck with that one. I know it won’t do any good for me to show up. I don’t think he likes me much.” Charlie could almost hear Billy grinning.
“Aw, he’s not so bad once you get past the New York accent.” Billy Red Clay was next in line to be tribal liaison officer to the agency and wanted things to work out. “He’ll eventually figure out how we think out here and fit right in.”
“Sure he will.” Charlie wasn’t certain what it was about the agent that rankled him. Mayfield’s predecessor had not been a shining example––that might have been the problem.
Billy Red Clay became more serious when he asked again, “So, any idea where we can find Harley Ponyboy. I know you and Uncle Thomas are friends of his… the thing is, Johnny Deboe says Harley was out there to his place earlier. We’re going to have to ask him a few questions.”
“I heard just this morning that he’s staying out at Thomas’s place.” Charlie was thinking fast, and while he wanted to be straight with Billy Red Clay, he needed a little more information before just handing over Harley Ponyboy. “Listen, Billy, I know you guys are a little shorthanded right now, and I’m on my way out to Thomas Begay’s anyway.” This hadn’t been true at the start of the conversation but it was now. “Harley’s had a little run of bad luck lately… he might take it better coming from me.”
Billy Red Clay mulled this over minute before answering, “Okay, Charlie, you’re closer than anyone else right now, and maybe it would be best you tell Harley about Anita… I wasn’t looking forward to it myself.” The tribal officer’s tone became more serious, “Charlie… you be sure and tell him we need to talk to him as soon as possible. I’ll be in the office a little later this afternoon if he wants to come in on his own… if he doesn’t come in we’ll come get him.”
“Billy… if he’s out there I’ll bring him back into town myself.” Charlie didn’t like this development at all.
~~~~~~
On the drive out to Lucy Tallwoman’s place, Charlie thought there were several things that needed clarification. He wondered how much Thomas knew that he didn’t. One thing that bothered him was what the authorities might think when they discovered Harley Ponyboy had been at Bad Johnny’s––and only the day before––that would raise some questions. In Charlie’s experience the first person to attract attention was the one authorities would zero in on. The fact that Harley had a witness in Alice Harney might only be a factor should she be found. There was the possibility that might not happen, at least not in time to help anyone, and that too was beginning to weigh on the legal investigator’s mind. He’d put the information out to everyone he could think of regarding Alice, and so far nothing had come back. He was beginning to think things were not boding well for Thomas’s ex-wife. Judging from what Lucy had told him, things could only end one way regardless… it was only a matter of time.
It crossed Charlie’s mind that it was too nice a day for such bad business as this; crisp, cool, and clear had been the forecast. He hoped the weather would hold a little longer. He still had that horse shed to tend to. The sky was turning a soft indigo around the edges, pointing to a cold night in that country. As he turned up the track to Lucy’s camp, he thought it odd Thomas had not come along with her that morning but laid it to the fact that he had to keep an eye on Harley until he was back on track. When he pulled up in the yard, he immediately saw Thomas’s truck was gone. Still, there should be someone around; the kid’s school bus would be dropping them off any minute. Someone would be there for that. Old Paul T’Sosi apparently hadn’t brought the sheep down as far as Charlie could see, and he wondered about that too.
Just as he pulled up in the yard, Lucy Tallwoman came around the corner of the hogan with a load of firewood in one arm, apprehensive at the sight of the investigator so soon after their meeting. He must have some news, she thought, and became even more anxious.
“Hey you, Charlie” she tried to smile as she put on her bravest face. “You bring good news, I hope.”
Charlie stood a moment wondering where to begin. “Not about Alice… no.” He saw the air go out of her. Disappointment filled her eyes as she turned and dumped the firewood beside the hogan door. He gave her a moment and then asked. “Where’s Harley?”
She was frowning now at his question “He’s not here. He and Thomas left for Ganado early this morning.” She looked off past the corrals and searched the road for the children. “So no word at all on Alice huh?”
“Ganado?” They hadn’t mentioned anything about a trip to Ganado. Charlie ignored the part about Alice for the moment, and gazed inquiringly at the woman.
“Well, it came up kind of sudden. I didn’t know myself until I got back from our meeting this morning.”
“You don’t mean it’s that witch stuff you were telling me about earlier?”
“Pretty much, I guess. They think they need to do something about that man before someone else gets hurt.”
Charlie turned from serious to grim. “Someone’s already been hurt. But I doubt it has to do with any witches.”
Lucy shot him a questioning glance, “Who’s hurt. You said this wasn’t about Alice.”
“Anita Ponyboy, Lucy, she’s dead, and it does
n’t look like it was an accident either. Someone apparently killed her over by Johnny Deboe’s place. Billy Red Clay is out there now with the FBI, and it’s not going to look good when they find out Harley was out there too, at some point.”
Lucy appeared almost unmoved by this news. Her mind was still on Alice. She and Anita had never been good friends, even when they were children and their families had lived close to one another. Thomas and Harley remained as close friends as ever despite her feelings about his wife. Anita had been one of those people who had talked it around about Thomas and her living together after Alice had left. She had never made any bones about it either. No, there was no love lost between her and Anita. She had always wondered what Harley saw in the woman, and while she didn’t think Harley Ponyboy much of a prize, she still thought he could do better than that Shash Diné’é clan person. The Bear People! Some thought they had Ute blood; maybe that’s why Anita was so big. When Lucy caught herself and glanced up, Charlie was looking at her with that same odd expression he had used that morning when they were talking about witches.
“I better call Billy Red Clay,” he said finally, “Tell him Harley’s not here.” He shook his head and turned to his truck. “They’ll probably put a warrant out for him.”
The tinkle of sheep bells caused them both to look to the ridge behind the hogan. They watched as Paul T’Sosi followed the flock of churros off the hill. As the old man guided the sheep through the gates, a fine green haze of powered manure rose in the air around them. Paul gave a wave, looked their way, and after latching the gate, slowly made his way toward them. He looked tired… and something more than that too. Charlie figured he might have been working on magic up there on the ridge… something related to the witch hunt. It was a hard business, making magic. Paul had once said it took a lot out of a person, and that was why the services of a Hataalii came so dear. The wear and tear on one’s head was what cost the money.
Again it occurred to Charlie that many of his people were living their lives standing still––modern life continued to flow past but left them ever farther behind. Traditional belief and culture was not of itself bad; some of it brought great good and kept the nation centered and the people strong. It was this thing about witches, he thought, and the turmoil they caused that brought illness and loss of hozo.
Paul’s first words were to ask about Alice, and when he heard there was no news his shoulders sagged and he shook his head at the ground before raising his eyes. “I doubt we’ll see her again,” and then thoughtfully, “She knows how we feel about death and dying; she probably doesn’t want to be a burden.”
Lucy wondered at her father’s comment, knowing how Alice had felt about tradition these last few years. She doubted Alice was bothered very much about the spiritual side of death and dying, or how it might affect anyone else. It sounded to Lucy like her father might be feeling guilty and making excuses for his granddaughter.
Charlie disrupted these thoughts when he asked the old man, “Do you have any idea when Harley and Thomas will be back from Ganado?”
Paul figured Charlie must already have talked to his daughter about Harley and his son-in-law’s reason for the trip to Ganado. “I don’t know…” he said simply, “I guess it depends on how quickly they find him and what goes on from there.” He himself was anxious to hear what the pair had run into in the search for Edward Bitsinnii. There was no way to get in touch with them, but he had prayed all day in their behalf and hoped that might be helping the two wherever they were.
Charlie glanced at the old man. “They didn’t mean any real harm to him, did they?”
Again Paul just shook his head. “I don’t know… I don’t know what they will do up there.”
Lucy listened and thought she detected some undercurrent of animosity in her father’s voice, a rare thing for Paul T’Sosi.
Finally Charlie nodded his head and turned to the old man’s daughter. “I’d better make that call.” After patching through a message for Billy Red Clay on his radio, Charlie was about to go when Lucy Tallwoman offered him coffee, and though he was anxious to leave, it would have been rude to refuse. They were good friends and that counted for a lot in that country. This would make the second time in two days he had turned down their hospitality, and it would be poor manners to do it again. He could spare the time for a quick cup.
As they sat silently drinking their coffee there came the faint sound of voices beyond the hogan door, now tight against the evening chill. Lucy, thinking the children were home, looked out the window to discover Thomas and Harley parked by the corrals, both children once again in the back of the truck and chattering away like magpies. Lucy immediately forced the vision from her mind. Those were the voices she heard… the children.
Lucy started down the path but greeted the men with little more than a searching look, before starting the children on their chores. She would talk to Thomas later about this witch-hunting expedition, and she thought it might get ugly. It wasn’t in her to tell Harley about Anita. That would best be left to Charlie. She stared after the two men as they headed up to the hogan and hoped Charlie had the right words for their friend.
Paul looked up as the pair entered, surprised. “You boys are back pretty quick for such a long trip.” He glanced at their faces and said. “You didn’t find him, did you?”
“No. We didn’t.” Thomas didn’t bother explaining until he had poured himself a cup of coffee. “We found his wife, though, at the hospital.”
Harley put in, “Did you know that place up there is the first all Navajo-run hospital on the reservation?” Charlie and the old man shook their heads… they hadn’t known.
“Well, it is… and Edward Bitsinnii’s wife almost runs the place by herself.” Anyone could see Harley was impressed.
Old Paul T’Sosi smiled and seemed unperturbed at Harley’s roundabout approach to the real question on everyone’s mind. It was the right and proper way to go about a conversation to his way of thinking. That was how such a thing was supposed to be approached; one should take his time, cover all the bases, and draw the thing out to a sensible conclusion.
Charlie frowned and reached across to lightly touch Harley on the shoulder. “Harley, I’ve got some bad news.”
Both Harley and Thomas looked at Charlie thinking he had news of Alice, but soon saw that was not the case.
Charlie took a deep breath and told Harley about his wife in the most straightforward manner he could muster, leaving out the details of her death, but mentioning she was found near Johnny Deboe’s.
Harley, shocked, looked disorientated, dazed, and stared with glazed eyes from one to the other of the men, thinking there had been some mistake, or Charlie was making a bad joke. Charlie wasn’t one to joke, and as the truth sank in, Harley reacted in a way no one expected of the tough little man. He burst into tears and fell forward on the table sobbing in a way no one wanted to see. Not one of them looked directly at him, or at each other.
It was quite a long time before Harley recovered his composure and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve, saying in a broken voice, “I did’n expect nothing like this ta happen. I guess I thought… I don’t know… maybe me and Anita would get back together like we always do.”
Thomas patted his friend’s hand, and his own eyes filled. He blinked as he looked across the table at Charlie, and shook his head.
Paul T’Sosi hadn’t changed expression, nor did he say anything, only sat staring at his hands.
Charlie too, remained silent and couldn’t send more than the occasional glance Harley’s way.
They heard Lucy Tallwoman coming by the faint sound of the children and listened to her caution the pair to lower their voices. When she ushered them into the hogan the sad look of Harley Ponyboy and grim expression of the others caused the youngsters to be silent. Even they could see something terrible had happened and were not sure they wanted to know what it was… or be a part of it.
Everyone waited patiently as Harley worked his
way through that first terrible wave of emotion… slowly coming to the realization he would never see Anita again. It was some time before he could speak in his regular voice.
Though Paul T’Sosi hated to do it, he thought he should pursue the question of Edward Bitsinnii; there might be precious little time, and there still were decisions to be made. “What did she say Harley, that woman up at Ganado? I mean, besides telling you he wasn’t there. What else did she say?”
Harley looked across at him, rubbed his eyes, and brought his mind back to Ganado once more. “Damned if I know for sure. Thomas said he would go in and talk to her, so I just stayed in the truck and let him do it… he told me all about it later. They have twenty four beds in there, and everyone who works there is a Navajo.”
Charlie Yazzie, holding one hand across his eyes, looked through his fingers at Harley, but didn’t smile.
Thomas looked up and answered for Harley, “Bitsinnii’s not up there anymore, Paul, according to his wife… unless she’s lying, which I doubt she is… she’s the head nurse. She said Edward left several months back and that she was glad of it.”
The old man nodded at this. “So where is he now?”
“From what she said, it sounds like he may be right back up there where he grew up. Out past Bloomfield… up Gobernador Wash, where some of his mother’s clan lived.” Thomas watched to see that everyone understood what had taken place up there at Ganado before continuing. He was a man who didn’t like to retell a thing. “I don’t chew my cabbage twice,” he was fond of saying. It was something he had picked up in the oil field from an Oklahoma tool-pusher, a man of few words, who didn’t like dealing with Indians.
While everyone was digesting this information about Edward Bitsinnii and trying to figure out what Thomas meant about the cabbage, Charlie motioned Harley and the others to follow him outside. He thought it better the children didn’t hear even what little he knew about the investigation into Anita’s death. No one knew what line of reasoning the FBI might pursue regarding Harley Ponyboy as a suspect. Harley himself had already figured this out and was becoming concerned.
Magpie Speaks Page 7