Eagle, Kathleen (42 page)

"Damn,
I wish your grandfather was still here," he told Sid. "He was real
handy with stuff like carpenter's levels."

"Should
we fix up his battlefield?"

"We
should, yeah. And then we should build a room big enough to—"

"Where
are we going?" Helen asked.

He
hadn't made a conscious choice, but they weren't headed for the Blue Sky place.
There was something else he had to take care of.

"How
about we spend the night in Rapid City?"

"That's
where the airport is," Sid said. "If you're sending me back, I don't
have my stuff."

"Your
mom said you weren't going back, and that's fine with me, but..." He
glanced at Helen. "I've got a bad feeling about Carter."

"I'd
rather not deal with him now. We don't know—"

"He
said he was going home." Reese reached across the dash for the cell phone.
"He said some pretty strange things. I can't explain it exactly. I wasn't
even thinking when I turned west instead of east."

"What
are you thinking now?"

"I'm
thinking..." Of getting in touch with Dozer. Of Darnell and the chances of
getting him convicted on sonuvabitch charges. Of his dumb-ass brother. "He
called and told us where to find this guy, and I'm grateful to him for
that."

"And
what else?"

"I'm
a little worried about how far off his bubble might be."

***

There
were lights on inside the house, but the front door was locked. Reese rang the
bell. There was no answer, but he was sure he'd seen some movement in the
window. He remembered the key Carter had hidden under the seat of a porch
bench—a practice he'd warned his brother against. Fortunately, his warning had
been ignored.

Reese
called his brother's name. Again there was no answer.

The
light was coming from the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The house was
quiet.

"Sid,
would you take your mom outside and wait for me in the pickup?"

"What's
wrong?"

"Just
do that for me." He looked at Helen, reached behind his back, and touched
the .22 he'd tucked in his belt again. "Please."

"Let
me call the police," she said.

"Not
yet."

"How
will I know?"

"All
right, wait by the door." He glanced at Sid, then jerked his chin toward
the door. "You go out to the pickup and man the cell phone, okay? If
there's a problem, call nine-one-one." The boy nodded.

Reese
headed for the rear of the house, announcing himself when he entered the
bedroom.

"Bro-gun?"
Carter's voice, coming from the master bathroom, sounded thin and taut.

"Yo,
it's me. Hey, listen, thanks for—"

"Are
you alone?"

The
bathroom door stood open. He could see Carter's face in the mirror above the
sink, and he figured he had to be sitting on the edge of the big marble
bathtub.

"I
sent them out."

"Was
there a car in front of the house?"

"I
didn't
see anything." He moved in closer, trying for a better view in the mirror.
"Carter, what's going on?"

"I'm
on the can, and I don't need company right now. Stay—"

The
hell with the sneak-up dance. Reese walked in. Carter was sitting there in
jeans, no shirt, one hand on his knee, the other behind the rim of the tub.

"Where's
the water?"

"Stay
out, big brother." He sat there like a plumbing fixture, inanimate but for
his dark, desperate eyes. "Listen, you've gotta get out of here. Take your
family and get as far away from this business as—" The hand came away from
his knee for a gesture. "They followed me here. Then they just sat there
in front of the house. Didn't come after me, nothing. I'm their—" The hand
became a stop sign, the eyes lowered, as though he'd been caught with his pants
down. "Don't, Reese."

Reese
took a step closer. "You're their what?"

"I'm...
I'm their monkey on a string. Me and Preston both, we walked into this show of
theirs and played the roles just as they wrote them for us. There's no way I can..."
He showed his hand now, filled with a snub-nosed .38. He stood slowly.
"You've gotta get out of here right now. Or I'll do you first, then
me."

"No,
you won't."

Carter
pointed the gun at Reese.

The
barrel wavered, but its black hole said,
O, yes.

"Stay
away," the unsure voice said.

But
the black hole said,
O, I'm dead sure.

"Put
it down, Carter. You asked me to look after your family. You're not going
to—"

Carter
turned the menacing hole to his own temple. "Stay away."

Reese
swallowed. His was feeling a little unsteady himself. His heart careened within
the walls of his chest like a jalopy that had just blown a tire.

"Carter,
please listen."

Oh,
Jesus, it was Helen.
Reese
didn't flinch, couldn't take his eyes off his brother, but he could see her out
of the corner of his eye. What the hell was she trying to do?

"Carter,
I know how you feel," she said as she approached. She had the view in the
mirror now. She could see her boss holding a gun to his own head, yet she spoke
calmly. "Believe me, I've been exactly where you are. Up to your eyebrows
in debt, right?"

"Helen,
please go out."

"I
understand Carter's problem, and I think I can—"

"No,
you don't, Helen. Don't bring your Gamblers Anonymous shit in here. I don't
need..." He turned the gun on Reese again. "If you care about her,
get her out of here."

"Carter,
I know because I've been there, and the only thing that kept me going was the
fact that my son needed me," she said, her voice as soothing as warm
water. "Just as your family needs you."

"They'll
be better off without me." Carter shook his head, his eyes growing wilder
by the second, his gun hand unsure of its target. He jerked the weapon back to
his head. "I'm really too stupid to live, you know? I walked right into
Ten Star's scheme to fuck up the Indian casino business."

"What
are you talking about?" Reese asked. "They have the management
contract."

"They
want us to hang ourselves on a gilded rope. They just kept loaning me money. I
could never repay it. But I took it. I took everything they offered and asked
for more."

"We'll
get Darnell behind bars."

"If
he doesn't kill me, he'll turn me in for taking bribes. Me and a few others.
Indians killing Indians, that's what they want." His eyes went wild again,
popping open and shut like screen doors, as if he were having trouble staying
awake.

His
hand twitched.

Reese's
stomach lurched.

"Am
I really Lakota, Bro-gun? Is this a good day to die?"

"It's
not a good
way."
Reese had to keep Carter's eyes fixed on his. It
scared him when he closed them. Had to keep talking, try to come up with
something he wanted to hear. "Yeah, you're Lakota. You're Roy Blue Sky's
son, just like I am. And we've all three had a hell of a time finding the red
road. A good way to live, little brother. That's what our traditions are
about."

"I'm
not headed that way. I've gone too far. I can't... turn..."

"You
can turn state's evidence, Carter," Helen said. Carter's eyes glinted,
pleading with Reese to get her out of the room. But she hung in there with a
woman's strong presence, a woman's quiet bid for life. "Tomorrow we'll get
you a good attorney. We're already building a case, Carter, and you can be part
of that. Beat them at their own game."

"She's
right, Carter. You can turn the tables. Do us all a service."

"I
want you to know one thing, Bro-gun. I had nothing to do with Dad's
death."

"I
believe that." Reese was feeling so damn dizzy, he wasn't sure where his
next breath was coming from, but the mention of his father... the image of his
father amid flashes of light and splashes of black... "I also believe he
made me come here tonight. I ain't lyin', little brother. I've been trying to
do everything the way he'd want it, but he still won't leave me alone."
Reese had to move or he was going to drop. "And I don't believe you want
to shoot anybody."

"Nobody
else, just..."

"Just
nobody." Reese caught himself, felt the cool tile on the wall.
"You're not leaving me without a brother again."

"You've
got plenty of brothers."

"I
want
you,"
he said, moving slowly, concentrating on the bits of
life, the light, his brother's eyes and the tears on his face. "You're my
brother, the one who was taken from me. Nobody's taking him from me again. Not
even you. So put it down." The gun was down by the time Reese reached him,
and it slid from hand to hand. The best Reese could do was find the safety
latch with his thumb and let the thing drop into the sink.

He
staggered like a lush, draped himself over his brother, rested his forehead
against Carter's, and whispered, "I need you to take me to a hospital
now."

Carter
caught him in his arms. "What's the—oh, God..."

"Don't...
make a big..."

"Helen,
call an ambulance," Carter shouted, loud enough to wake the dead. "Now!
Get nine-one-one and ask them what to do for him. It's his heart!"

Reese
fought for every breath. He was as light-headed as he'd ever been with this
crazy condition of his, but he was pretty sure he was still conscious.
Somewhere along the line, one of the drummers in his chest had gotten himself
loaded, and there was no rhyme or rhythm to his heartbeat. But there was
volume. He could hear it in his head.

"You
still with us, Bro-gun?"

"Gun,"
Reese muttered, leaning heavily on Carter as they moved to the bedroom. He
still had his legs under him. He was pretty sure he did. He saw Helen, and she
looked scared, and he didn't want her to worry.
Give her a job.
"Can
you get the... gun and put it... away somewhere?"

"The
ambulance is coming. We're going to lie down now."

"Tired,"
he said, and he was congratulating himself for being in control, still
breathing, still conscious. "Been a long day."

Helen's
sweet face hovered over him. Some of it was gone, but most of it was there.
"You got the gun?"

"Don't
worry about the gun," Carter said. "Just don't black out, okay?"

"Drummer's
all fucked up. Makes me dizzy, trying to keep up. Can't do that step." But
he didn't want to lie down. He was afraid he wouldn't get up.

"Should
he be talking? Save your strength, my love."

"Just
sit," he said, but he might have been down now. He wasn't sure. His body
wasn't all his. "Say that again.
My love."

She
said it over and over again while he concentrated on her blue eyes the way he'd
focused on his brother's. "Mom? What's wrong?"

Sid.
More light. More bright spots than black spots.

"It's
not as bad as it looks." He waved his son's voice closer. "Don't be
scared. It's happened before, and I'm still... around to tell the tale."
Ah, there was Sidney's face. Reese touched his fist—he thought it was a fist—to
the boy's arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't
be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't've... Don't die, okay? Okay—Dad?
Can I— can I call you Dad?"

"Please..."
Reese hooked his arm around the boy's neck and drew him close, head to head. He
felt giddy, like he was half drunk himself. "Lemme hear it again..."

"Dad,"
Sid chanted fervently. "Dad, my dad, don't die now, please?"

"Not
today. Not a good day for it. When I go, it'll be..." He tried to snap his
fingers, but they were like rubber. "Damn. Weak as a... kitten."

"They're
here, Reese—the ambulance," Helen said, and only then did he recognize the
sound of the siren. He'd thought it was the singers. "Sidney, go tell
them," she said.

"Nah,
come on, no ambulance. I don't need..." He was looking at his brother, but
behind his brother's shoulder, another face appeared.

Take
your brother with you,
his father said.

Take
him?

He
has no will of his own right now. He needs some of yours.

Mine?
I can't even will my heart to beat steady.

You
have what your heart needs. Share that with your brother.

Helen
was close by, but she'd brought strangers. Two white guys. "Carter?"
He grabbed a blue shirt. "Let my brother ride with me."

"I'll
be along, Bro-gun. You've got—"

"You're
staying with me." He fought off the little white guys until Carter
appeared. "For instructions. Just in case. You've gotta... do this for
me." He looked at Helen for help.