Canyon Secret (13 page)

The screen door closed and snapped Mikhail from his trip back to Barbara. Katya walked into the living room and stared at her father still sitting on the floor with his hands on his lap. “Sorry, Daddy. Poor sleep last night and I took it out on you. Can we try it again?”

“Only if I can get up.” They both managed weak laughs as he struggled over to the couch and climbed up to his feet. They hugged and he whispered, “We’ll work it out.”

“I know we will. Let’s go fix something for you to take over to the McQueen Club this afternoon. I ran into George in the alley and he wants you to drive him over there. He can’t be too mad at you. I told him you would, so you’re stuck.”

He nodded his tentative approval and placed his hands in front of him in surrender. “Do you remember that time when you rode in the float on the Fourth?”

“How could I ever forget? You caught up with me at the Civic Center and nearly collapsed from exhaustion from walking that far. And then you had to carry me all the way back up to St. Joseph’s Church on your shoulders when mom met us with the car.”

“I told Anna that story today. She sure looks like you sometimes.”

Katya opened the cupboard door and pulled out some bowls. “People that visit her tell me that all the time. When I look in the mirror sometimes, I think I look like Grandmother Moses. The extra weight and my scraggly hair don’t help me none.”

He shook his head one more time and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

At five in the morning of the Fourth of July, John Nolan stood over the sprawled body of Tomas as he lay sleeping in the undersized single bed of his room in the barracks. His mind soared back to the beautiful spring morning that Tomas was born. One of the nurses brought Tomas over to him as he stood by Mikhail in the hallway outside of the delivery room. He recalled her words to him, “You have a beautiful son, Mr. Anzich, and he even looks a little like you. You can go and see your wife now.” Nolan shook his head as he vividly remembered the look of surprise on Mikhail’s face. Nolan wished that Tomas was his son. He watched him grow from that baby in the hospital through his years in school.

And now he stood over a boy turned man. He wanted to kiss him on the head like he did when he was a little boy. Instead he reached down and firmly grabbed him by the shoulders and yelled, “Alright, time to get up and face the music. If you’re goin’ to dance, you’re goin’ to pay the fiddler.”

Tomas jerked up and sat with his eyes scanning the room for his bearing. “What? What do—”

“Never mind. You’re goin’ to work that big head of yours off before you go to work. Get on your clothes! You’re goin’ for a long walk. Hurry up!”

Tomas slid around in the bed and placed his feet down on the floor. He still wore his socks and clothes to bed. He searched for his shoes. And then it hit. His head pounded and his stomach heaved. Tomas bent to reach his right shoe and stopped. He jumped up and ran for the bathroom. Nolan heard him vomit. One of Tomas’s shoes lay upside down in the hallway leading to the bathroom. Nolan picked it up and walked slowly down to join Tomas who wrapped his arms around the toilet. Dry heaves tortured his body and nothing remained in his stomach from the night before.

Nolan placed an arm on Tomas’s shoulder and said, “Let’s walk. You’ll feel better.” He remembered from his own experience of dealing with severe hangovers. “Come on, Nephew. Let’s go.”

Tomas gathered himself and pushed himself up from the toilet. They stopped and got his other shoe and went outside. The sun came up over the ridge as they walked down the road leading to the east side of the Hungry Horse Reservoir. After walking about half a mile, Tomas stopped and blazed through another bout of dry heaves. He wiped his mouth with his forearm, and with Nolan’s encouragement, they continued walking. An hour and a half later and having endured Nolan’s constant barrage of stories of his hangovers, Tomas walked up the stairs to the barracks. Nolan walked fast and never slowed down except to stand and watch Tomas attempt to clear his stomach. Sweat poured down his face as he walked in. He took off his clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist. He went in and with Nolan’s constant haranguing, he tolerated a long, ice cold shower.

After he managed to eat some scrambled eggs, toast, and drink several cups of coffee and tomato juice, Tomas boarded the bus to the top of the Dam. He climbed into the back and avoided the eyes of his partner, Shorty Davis who sat in the front row. Tomas berated himself about getting drunk with David and vowed to never drink again. He knew Shorty would question him about last night. Shorty made it real clear yesterday afternoon about not working with drunks. Tomas promised himself to put on a good act and work non-stop until the whistle blew at 4:30.

Shorty waited for him at the side of the bus. He liked Shorty but tolerated some bad moods that included ranting and raving. The look on Shorty’s face looked to Tomas like it was going to be one of those kinds of days. “Did ya get drunk with your asshole brother-in-law last night?”

Tomas stood his distance and answered, “No Shorty. I drank three beers with him and was in bed by 9:00. I feel great today.” Shorty walked away and mumbled, “Ya, you betcha.”

He jogged up alongside Shorty and walked together. They set their buckets and jackets down on the bench in the shack. Without looking up Shorty growled at Tomas, “You’d better be feelin’ great. We’re short-handed as hell and they are stickin’ a new guy in with us. Besides we been challenged to more pours by next block over. It’s gonna be hotter than yesterday. So you’d better be feeling great.” He looked right in Tomas’s eyes and continued, “You follow, Kid?”

Tomas swallowed hard as the smell of the Copenhagen on Shorty’s breath filled his nostrils. His stomach moved but held. He also fought the dull throb of the headache and said, “Yes, sir, I follow.”

Shorty nodded a slight approval, spit out his snoose, and poured a cup of coffee from his thermos. They stood there and watched their boss Fred Spear and a young Indian man walk toward them. “Hey, Shorty, this here is Cliff Buckless. He’ll be workin’ with ya today. He’ll be the third and will spell you and your partner. Heard ya been challenged. You start in block number six. Hope you kick Buck’s ass.”

Shorty nodded and introduced himself to the new man. “Have you run a vibrator before there, Cliff?”

After a short pause, Cliff answered, “Yes.”

Shorty shook his head as Tomas walked the new man toward block six. He thought how it was bad enough working with a hung over partner, now he had to put up with a Blackfeet Indian who was probably hung over too. Shorty worked with lots of Blackfeet Indians and liked how steady most of them worked. He just wished it hadn’t happened on a day when Buck Morris and his crew challenged them to a pour. Maybe this young guy’ll work out. I don’t want to listen to big mouth Morris bragging on and on for weeks.

The bellboy signaled the operator and he guided the bucket of concrete over to block six. The men stood in the corner and watched the contents enter the five-foot block. Tomas gave himself another pep talk, “Work harder than you ever had before. Shorty’ll tan your hide if you don’t.” Shorty picked up his end of the vibrator and signaled Tomas with a slight nod of his head. Every nerve in his head reacted as the vibration rolled through his arms and up through his neck. He rejoined his private thoughts, “Oh God, I promise to never drink again. Please help me make it through today.”

During lunch, Tomas listened to every word Cliff told him about the Going to The Sun Highway and the eastern side of Glacier Park. “Cliff, would you take me up there sometime? I’d help pay for gas and everything. I’d really like to see it.”

“I will take you there on our day off sometime. I can show you my home in Heart Butte. You can then see the Mountains from the other side.”

“I’d like to do that, Cliff.” Tomas remembered looking up towards the area of the Going To The Sun Highway on his first trip to Glacier with David. “I’d like—”

“It’s time to hit the bricks. You can talk about Glacier on your own time. Let’s roll.” As he did every day, Shorty handed his bucket to Tomas after eating. “Take this on up for me will you, Kid?”

Tomas sighed relief once he realized Shorty forgot about last night. Shorty’s crew had finished tapping three pours before lunch and Shorty took the opportunity to razz Buck about them lagging behind.

John Nolan insisted that Tomas bring two extra jugs of water with him. Tomas drained his regular jug and worked on one of the extras as he walked back to block six to join his crew. He felt strong and realized what Nolan told him was right. “Kid, the one thing about a good hangover is that sometime during the day you will start to feel better. It’ll feel as good as a good shit.” Tomas felt warm inside as he thought of how good care Nolan took of him that morning. He now understood how Nolan and his dad were such good friends. After his father, John Nolan was the greatest man he ever knew. I am so lucky to have him as my godfather and step-uncle.

The bus ride down to the bottom was loud and Shorty and his crew celebrated the victory over his rival Buck Morris. Shorty loudly bragged how he beat Morris with a snotty-nose kid and a first-time Blackfeet Indian kid. “I whooped your ass Morris with a couple of young greenhorns. And one of ‘em was even hung over, but don’t tell his old man. He’ll get his ass kicked.” The bus erupted into loud laughing and others joined in teasing Morris and the men in his crew.

Shorty continued, “We’re meetin’ down at Whitey’s and the drinks are on Buck. I think I might try a martini tonight or some other fancy drink. Oh ya, Morris. My young pups will have Shirley Temples too.” Again the raucous group of men roared their approval.

Cliff quietly whispered to Tomas, “What is a Shirley Temple?”

He remembered back to his senior year prom dance and the dinner at the Arrow Club in Meaderville after the dance. “Oh it’s a real sweet drink that doesn’t have any booze in it. I bought one for my date after the prom once.”

He nodded his understanding but couldn’t imagine any of the bars in Hungry Horse serving a girl’s drink. Cliff Buckless watched many of his friends and family members get drunk and behave badly when he lived on the Blackfeet Reservation. After basketball season of his senior year, he packed a small suitcase and hitchhiked over to Hungry Horse and started working on the Dam.

He walked by many of the bars in the Canyon as a way of reminding him that he would never drink. Cliff flashed on that cold night in February when he was twelve years old. The tribal police car pulled in front of their house at two o’clock in the morning. He still remembered the red light swirling around and around. He scratched the frost off the glass, and he and his little sister peeped out of the window. The greatest fear for him in life came through right at that moment. The knock on the door sounded like a giant pounded with a large rock. He and his sister opened the door and heard the news of the head on car crash on the bridge between East Glacier and Browning. His parents and his uncle were dead.

The noise of the screeching brakes from the dust snapped Cliff out of his reoccurring horrible memory. Tomas gave him a light elbow. “Are you okay, Cliff? It’s time to get off.”

“Yes, Yes. I am fine. It was good to meet you.”

“Me too. You’re a hard worker. I had trouble keeping up with you. Are you going to do anything tonight for the Fourth?”

Cliff sauntered down the steps of the bus. “I am going back to the barracks in Hungry Horse. After a shower, I’d like to get something good to eat. Maybe go bowling right there too. I don’t want to go near the bars.”

“Would you like me to join up with you?”

Cliff stood quietly for a few seconds. It was strange for him that a white worker wanted to do anything with him. He mostly spent the time alone or with other Indians who worked on the Dam. “Okay. At six, right here.”

“Great, Cliff. I’ll go shower, and then I have to track down my godfather for a bit; then I’ll meet you right here.”

After a great fried chicken and mashed potatoes dinner at Rocco’s, the two young men walked toward the bowling alley at the quonset hut near Cliff’s barracks. As Tomas and Cliff waited to cross the highway, three drunken men staggered out of the bar in Rocco’s. One of the men cupped his hands and yelled, “Hey Blanket Ass, what you doin’ off the Rez?”

Tomas suddenly turned around, “What did you say?”

The same man answered, “I wasn’t talkin’ to you dumbshit. I was talkin’ to that Indian you’re with.”

Cliff didn’t turn around and started to walk across the highway. Tomas walked to the three men and stopped right in front of the man who was yelling. “Why you being so mean to him? He’s a good man, and a great worker. Leave him alone.”

The man inched up right next to Tomas and got eyeball to eyeball, “Are you goin’ make me, Indian lover? Because if you are, I’m gonna kick your ass too.”

Tomas quietly repeated himself, “Cliff isn’t botherin’ nobody. We’re just goin’ bowling, mindin’ our own business. Like I said, leave us alone.”

The man pushed Tomas hard in the chest and his two friends closed in behind him, “Put the boots to him, Jim. Teach that Indian Lover a lesson.”

Cliff jogged back across the highway and stood next to Tomas. He quietly spoke to Tomas, “Let’s go bowling. Forget about them.”

“Hey. Ya hear that? The card-carryin’ blanket-ass can speak. Ugh!” The other men laughed and tightened the circle.

The sheriff pulled his black 1949 Ford sedan to a dusty stop behind the circle of men. He stepped out and waived his bully club in front of him. “What’s goin’ on here men?”

The drunken man doin’ all of the talking said, “Nothin’ Sheriff, we’d be just talkin’ here. That’s all.”

Sheriff Patrick Schustrom’s tough reputation in the Canyon prevented many fights from happening. He walked over and stood in front of Tomas and Cliff. “Is that what’s goin’ on here, men?”

Tomas nodded yes. Schustrom walked slowly backward toward his car. “That’s good then. I’ll just sit here for a while so’s you good friends can talk some more. Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two about a thing or two.” He flashed a wry smile and closed the car door behind him.