right, he said at last. They’ll come to know. You remember what all the elders said? They knew the history. Who killed the mother of the first one, Mink, and what she could do. Then her daughter, her granddaughter, the next one, and Emmaline’s mom. Evil tried to catch them all. They fought demons, outwitted them,flew. Randall talked about how people think what medicine people did in the past is magic. But it was not magic. Beyond ordinary understanding now, but not magic.
LaRose can do these things too, said Randall. He has it in him. He’s stronger than you think. Remember you thought they said he was a mirage?
Gave him the name, Mirage. I know.
That’s right.
Mirage knew how to dream the whereabouts of animals, how to leave his body during a trance and visit distant relatives. A trader named George Nelson had known others who could do this and had written about it back in the eighteenth century.
Landreaux spoke haltingly. What if the elders are just a bunch of regular old people no smarter than any of us, what if . . .
They are regular old people, said Randall. But they’re people who learned off their old people, right? Like here, we had the starvation year when most of our old people gave up their food. That generation died for us, eh? So we go north. Accept their words if they feel right.
But maybe they don’t know?
Quit asking dumb questions. You’ll bust your brain if you think like that. Let me ask you something. What was that boy Dusty like anyway?
Don’t ask me that.
He ain’t a footnote to your agony, bro. What was he like? Who knew that boy the best, of your family?
Landreaux finally answered.
LaRose.
So what did LaRose know about him?
Funny kid. Played adventures. The two of them had a pack of toys they made into cartoon characters. They were hilarious if you listened in on what they made up. Dusty . . .
Yeah, say his name, but use the spirit world marker. Use iban.
Dusty-iban liked to draw. He was good at drawing. We got some drawings he made for us.
Of what?
Horse. Dog. Spider-Man.
Landreaux was crying steadily in gulping sobs. Randall let that go on for a while.
Don’t you cry no more. Unless it’s for that kid. Don’t you cry no more for your own pain. You put that cry energy into your family. Into doing good for Dusty-iban’s family. When I hear you cry, I hear you cry for what you did, but you quit that now. Were you high when you shot him?
The medicine crackled. No.
Were you high?
No.
Were you high?
No.
We let our people get away with shit. We shouldn’t. That’s why I ask. Randall was quiet for a long time.
You’re a good hunter. You take your shot careful, said Randall. Everybody knows you are careful and every year you bring down your supply. So I hadda ask.
Okay, said Landreaux.
I ain’t totally convinced.
Okay, said Landreaux.
You off the booze?
Yes, said Landreaux.
Pills?
Yeah.
Okay. You gotta take on faith you did right with LaRose.
What about Emmaline, though? said Landreaux.
Nola is her sister.
Half sister, said Landreaux.
There are no half sisters, said Randall.
Emmaline doesn’t like her sister.
She say that?
I can tell. And Nola can’t stand Emmaline. So we don’t get to seeLaRose. Guess we assumed she’d bring him over; the boys used to play and all that.
Give them time to work it out, said Randall. Door! Oh, I forgot we ain’t got no doorman. Door! I’m calling myself. Randall threw the tarp aside. Then he brought in more rocks and dropped them off the end of his pitchfork.
So many? Landreaux was already melted.
Haha, said Randall. Let’s party. I’m gonna boil you alive.
Still, even after being poached like a frog by Randall, there was no peace. Landreaux felt worse and worse. He mourned LaRose’s stringy arms hugging him, blamed himself for making LaRose his secret, favorite child. He began taking Coochy places, everywhere, keeping the one son close. Coochy was earnest, a cloudy boy, and he took things hard. Inside, he
LaRose can do these things too, said Randall. He has it in him. He’s stronger than you think. Remember you thought they said he was a mirage?
Gave him the name, Mirage. I know.
That’s right.
Mirage knew how to dream the whereabouts of animals, how to leave his body during a trance and visit distant relatives. A trader named George Nelson had known others who could do this and had written about it back in the eighteenth century.
Landreaux spoke haltingly. What if the elders are just a bunch of regular old people no smarter than any of us, what if . . .
They are regular old people, said Randall. But they’re people who learned off their old people, right? Like here, we had the starvation year when most of our old people gave up their food. That generation died for us, eh? So we go north. Accept their words if they feel right.
But maybe they don’t know?
Quit asking dumb questions. You’ll bust your brain if you think like that. Let me ask you something. What was that boy Dusty like anyway?
Don’t ask me that.
He ain’t a footnote to your agony, bro. What was he like? Who knew that boy the best, of your family?
Landreaux finally answered.
LaRose.
So what did LaRose know about him?
Funny kid. Played adventures. The two of them had a pack of toys they made into cartoon characters. They were hilarious if you listened in on what they made up. Dusty . . .
Yeah, say his name, but use the spirit world marker. Use iban.
Dusty-iban liked to draw. He was good at drawing. We got some drawings he made for us.
Of what?
Horse. Dog. Spider-Man.
Landreaux was crying steadily in gulping sobs. Randall let that go on for a while.
Don’t you cry no more. Unless it’s for that kid. Don’t you cry no more for your own pain. You put that cry energy into your family. Into doing good for Dusty-iban’s family. When I hear you cry, I hear you cry for what you did, but you quit that now. Were you high when you shot him?
The medicine crackled. No.
Were you high?
No.
Were you high?
No.
We let our people get away with shit. We shouldn’t. That’s why I ask. Randall was quiet for a long time.
You’re a good hunter. You take your shot careful, said Randall. Everybody knows you are careful and every year you bring down your supply. So I hadda ask.
Okay, said Landreaux.
I ain’t totally convinced.
Okay, said Landreaux.
You off the booze?
Yes, said Landreaux.
Pills?
Yeah.
Okay. You gotta take on faith you did right with LaRose.
What about Emmaline, though? said Landreaux.
Nola is her sister.
Half sister, said Landreaux.
There are no half sisters, said Randall.
Emmaline doesn’t like her sister.
She say that?
I can tell. And Nola can’t stand Emmaline. So we don’t get to seeLaRose. Guess we assumed she’d bring him over; the boys used to play and all that.
Give them time to work it out, said Randall. Door! Oh, I forgot we ain’t got no doorman. Door! I’m calling myself. Randall threw the tarp aside. Then he brought in more rocks and dropped them off the end of his pitchfork.
So many? Landreaux was already melted.
Haha, said Randall. Let’s party. I’m gonna boil you alive.
Still, even after being poached like a frog by Randall, there was no peace. Landreaux felt worse and worse. He mourned LaRose’s stringy arms hugging him, blamed himself for making LaRose his secret, favorite child. He began taking Coochy places, everywhere, keeping the one son close. Coochy was earnest, a cloudy boy, and he took things hard. Inside, he
Similar Books
