Read Online Reason To Believe by Kathleen Eagle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kathleen Eagle
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the first step right now."
"Yeah, well, I don't know what you've heard, but my wife and I..." Staring at his bootheel, he resisted the urge to try again for some clue from Clara. "Look, I haven't always been the best father, and I guess that's part of the reason my daughter's in trouble now. Mistakes have a way of—" he gave an open-handed gesture, groping for the right words "—sneakin' up on a guy in unexpected places, messing with the wrong people." He cast his daughter an apologetic look. "Annie's always been a good kid."
"Still is, right, Anna?" The woman's quick smile dipped to a frown. "Or Annie? Which do you prefer?"
"Most people call me 'Anna,' but my dad always calls me 'Annie.' So I answer to either one, if people say it right. I don't answer when they say it, like, An-na Pipe? Pipestone?" She feigned an exaggerated struggle over each syllable. "Like they think I just dropped in from another planet, and even though it looks simple enough, there must be some weird way to say it, so it goes with my face better."
"Your face isn't weird," Officer Turnbull said in all seriousness.
"No kidding," Anna aped.
"So... where do you want to start today, Anna?" Turnbull planted her elbows on the arms of her desk chair and steepled her fingers, preparing to be regaled by her charge. "Good news? Bad news?"
"My grandfather was in the news," Anna was surprisingly eager to report. "Yesterday's paper. Did you see it? About the Big Foot Memorial Ride? They have it, like, every year—or at least for the last couple of years—and my grandfather is the pipe carrier for the whole Sioux Nation. Right, Dad? The whole Sioux—"
Ben gave a curt nod, hoping Annie would take the hint and just tell the woman whatever was required.
"So, anyway, it's coming up again, and they interviewed my grandfather about it. He said some real good stuff."
"I'll have to dig out yesterday's paper," the officer said as she jotted a note on a legal pad. "Does your grandfather live... close by?"
"He lives out in the country, down on the rez. He's very traditional. Right, Dad?"
"Oh, yeah, he's traditional, all right."
"What does that mean? Does he..."
"He practices traditional Indian ways," Anna explained. "He speaks the language, tells a lot of good stories, does all the ceremonies and, you know, like..." A glance at her father elicited no encouragement. "Well, he's in charge of spiritual stuff. And he's my real grandfather."
"How interesting." Turnbull made another note, turned briefly to Clara—silently inviting her to jump in anytime—then to Anna again. "How's school going?"
"It's okay." Dead silence. Anna shrugged. "Okay, so the bad news is that I skipped two classes yesterday because I had to go home and look at the paper right away." She glanced at Clara, who tacitly took issue with her choice of words. "Well, what happened was, somebody asked me if the Pipestone guy that was in the newspaper was any relation to me. So I had to find out what they were talking about."
Turnbull bounced the eraser end of her pencil on the legal pad as she eyed Anna. "The school library doesn't get the newspaper?"
"I didn't have time to go to the library. And besides, I was scared it might be—" Anna slouched in her chair, slipping her father a furtive glance "—something bad."
"You couldn't have gotten more information from the person who mentioned the article?"
Anna shook her head.
"Anna, that's not a good reason to skip class," Officer Turnbull concluded.
"There are no good reasons for skipping class," Clara added quietly.
"I finished my work in Kraus's class, turned it in, and asked if I could go get a drink. He told me to sit down. I asked if I could go to the bathroom. He told me to sit down and be quiet. I asked him why he let Amy Trask go, and he gave me some bullshit about—" Anna threw up her hands in disgust. "I don't know what. So I just left."
Turnbull leaned back in her chair, contemplative, distant. "Why didn't you ask to go to the
"Yeah, well, I don't know what you've heard, but my wife and I..." Staring at his bootheel, he resisted the urge to try again for some clue from Clara. "Look, I haven't always been the best father, and I guess that's part of the reason my daughter's in trouble now. Mistakes have a way of—" he gave an open-handed gesture, groping for the right words "—sneakin' up on a guy in unexpected places, messing with the wrong people." He cast his daughter an apologetic look. "Annie's always been a good kid."
"Still is, right, Anna?" The woman's quick smile dipped to a frown. "Or Annie? Which do you prefer?"
"Most people call me 'Anna,' but my dad always calls me 'Annie.' So I answer to either one, if people say it right. I don't answer when they say it, like, An-na Pipe? Pipestone?" She feigned an exaggerated struggle over each syllable. "Like they think I just dropped in from another planet, and even though it looks simple enough, there must be some weird way to say it, so it goes with my face better."
"Your face isn't weird," Officer Turnbull said in all seriousness.
"No kidding," Anna aped.
"So... where do you want to start today, Anna?" Turnbull planted her elbows on the arms of her desk chair and steepled her fingers, preparing to be regaled by her charge. "Good news? Bad news?"
"My grandfather was in the news," Anna was surprisingly eager to report. "Yesterday's paper. Did you see it? About the Big Foot Memorial Ride? They have it, like, every year—or at least for the last couple of years—and my grandfather is the pipe carrier for the whole Sioux Nation. Right, Dad? The whole Sioux—"
Ben gave a curt nod, hoping Annie would take the hint and just tell the woman whatever was required.
"So, anyway, it's coming up again, and they interviewed my grandfather about it. He said some real good stuff."
"I'll have to dig out yesterday's paper," the officer said as she jotted a note on a legal pad. "Does your grandfather live... close by?"
"He lives out in the country, down on the rez. He's very traditional. Right, Dad?"
"Oh, yeah, he's traditional, all right."
"What does that mean? Does he..."
"He practices traditional Indian ways," Anna explained. "He speaks the language, tells a lot of good stories, does all the ceremonies and, you know, like..." A glance at her father elicited no encouragement. "Well, he's in charge of spiritual stuff. And he's my real grandfather."
"How interesting." Turnbull made another note, turned briefly to Clara—silently inviting her to jump in anytime—then to Anna again. "How's school going?"
"It's okay." Dead silence. Anna shrugged. "Okay, so the bad news is that I skipped two classes yesterday because I had to go home and look at the paper right away." She glanced at Clara, who tacitly took issue with her choice of words. "Well, what happened was, somebody asked me if the Pipestone guy that was in the newspaper was any relation to me. So I had to find out what they were talking about."
Turnbull bounced the eraser end of her pencil on the legal pad as she eyed Anna. "The school library doesn't get the newspaper?"
"I didn't have time to go to the library. And besides, I was scared it might be—" Anna slouched in her chair, slipping her father a furtive glance "—something bad."
"You couldn't have gotten more information from the person who mentioned the article?"
Anna shook her head.
"Anna, that's not a good reason to skip class," Officer Turnbull concluded.
"There are no good reasons for skipping class," Clara added quietly.
"I finished my work in Kraus's class, turned it in, and asked if I could go get a drink. He told me to sit down. I asked if I could go to the bathroom. He told me to sit down and be quiet. I asked him why he let Amy Trask go, and he gave me some bullshit about—" Anna threw up her hands in disgust. "I don't know what. So I just left."
Turnbull leaned back in her chair, contemplative, distant. "Why didn't you ask to go to the
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