oooo0000oooo
A lonely figure walked upriver.
He was furious. His car had died a mile or so back there
and he had to take the trail on foot.
He still had a few more miles to go before reaching that
cabin.
At least he could do some damage before returning to
the city. He cracked an evil smile as he walked.
oooo00000oooo
Joey was flying. He could see the land below as he traveled
by in steady, agile flight, the earth and sky surrounding him in perfect harmony.
He took a deep breath and caught the scent of wet grass and rain. Still, the sky
above was clear. Strange! He smiled, his heart pounding in exhilaration as the
wind caressed his face.
He was flying.
He loved the feeling of freedom that flight gave him…
the sensation of being himself, completely unattached, just him. Joey.
Flying.
Free.
Painless, beautiful freedom.
He didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want to go back to
the ground, but deep in his heart, he knew he had to.
With a loud, yet inaudible sigh, he finally locked the
feeling back inside his heart and reluctantly came back down to earth. Slowly,
he opened his eyes.
He was still inside that cabin. It was night.
He was alone.
The storm still roared outside but it didn’t sound as
furious as it had before, Joey noticed, and he wasn’t cold anymore. Nor hot either.
He was fine, he felt... fine.
Slowly, he attempted to move, but a hand appeared on
his chest out of nowhere and pushed him back down.
“Don’t sit up just yet.”
In that very moment, the room decided to spin. Joey closed
his eyes and groaned. His voice came back hoarse, “How long have I been asleep?”
he asked.
Lightfoot came into Joey’s field of vision carrying a
steamy cup of tea. “When your head stops dancing, you sit up and drink this. It
will help.”
“What is it?”
“Tea.”
“Haha, very funny.” Joey attempted to sit once again,
this time more slowly. “How long?” he asked again.
“A few hours.”
“Damn!” Joey was sitting now, and from there he could
see the rain through the small window. Images of Levon danced inside his head,
out there in the rain with a bloody head… floating in the river… he had to go
find him, fast.
Lightfoot seemed to read his thoughts. “The storm will
end soon.”
“Yeah.” Joey still felt weak but, all and all, remarkably
better than a few hours before. He shook his head slowly. “What was in that thing
you gave me?”
Gordon took the cup and put it in Joey’s open hand. “Something
different from what is in here. Drink.”
With a glare, Joey took a sip and stared outside again.
“Damn!” He muttered again.
“This forest doesn’t like to take lives. It’s noble land.”
“How do you know?” Joey asked, his eyes still glued to
the window.
“Well, it let YOU live, didn’t it?” Gordon smiled from
his chair and took a sip of his own steamy cup. “You’ll both be fine here, don’t
worry. Trust the land, she will take care of your friend.”
A small smile lighted up Joe’s face, he couldn’t hide
his amusement, betrayed by his own muffled chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing… I’ve been in Texas too long.”
Lightfoot grinned, “I don’t follow.”
Joey smiled again. “It’s nothing. I just noticed something
I wouldn’t have noticed in a million years before I came to this place.”
“What?”
“You didn’t say Y’all”
It was Gordon’s time to smile, although he kept his voice
serious. “Oh, well. I’m from South Dakota.”
“You don’t say ya’ll
in South Dakota?”
“Not unless it’s Tuesday.”
“Oh.” Joey grunted. “You’re pulling my leg again, aren’t
you?”
“Drink the tea.”
The Italian took a sip and stared outside again. The
rain still fell steady into the darkness.
“He’ll be fine.” Lightfoot repeated.
Joey didn’t answer. That feeling behind his neck was
back, and it was very, very strong.
oooo0000oooo
“What happened McCandless?”
“Ferguson ain’t talking, Joanne, we have no way of knowing
if Conti knows where La Fiamma is.”
“If he talked to Ferguson and Ferguson has been listening
to us for months!” Joanne began.
“…Ferguson knew about their fishin’ trip!” Esteban finished.
“That’s for sure!”
“We’ll never know if he talked to Conti at all.” Beaumont
pointed out.
“There’s only one question we should be asking ourselves
right now, “ Esteban said.
Joanne stared at her detective, “What?”
“How much of a chance do you want to take on this?”
There was a moment of silence, as if time had stopped
for a second. Then everyone came back to life again.
Joe Bill stood up and grabbed his hat, “I’ll get the
car”
“Right!” Esteban gave his boss a knowing look before
following his partner.
Joanne bit up another curse. “Carol!,” she yelled, “Tell
Dispatch to get all the units you have to look for the suspect out on 116 highway.
The storm would have slowed him down. Go!”
oooo0000oooo
The sky was dark.
The storm had gone on almost all night, but now, an hour
before dawn, it was just quiet.
It was over.
As soon as he felt he was able, Joe had thanked his rescuer
one more time and left the cabin to resume his search. Hiding his amusement, Gordon
Lightfoot had packed supplies and a few essentials and had followed the weary
Italian soon after. The man shook his head and grinned, this boy was as stubborn
as himself at that age, that’s why Lightfoot knew exactly where this one was headed,
straight for trouble.
Might as well follow and keep an eye on him, he had nothing
else to do today anyway.
Joey walked through the forest, he didn’t really know
where he was going, just followed his instincts and tried to find the river again.
He had asked Gordon the general direction before leaving, but he had to admit,
he was getting lost in the dark.
“Damn!” He swore.
“It is the correct trail, kid,” A voice came behind him,
“You just have to go upwards before you go downwards again. You fell down the
slope, remember?”
Joey jumped, “What are you doing here?”
The tall man grinned as he passed before him and continued
on. “Hiking,” he said without turning.
“Right.” Joe smiled, inwardly thankful for the company.
“You do that a lot at this ungodly hour?”
Gordon spoke as he continued on toward the river, knowing
Joey would follow. “I’m an Oglala Sioux, born and raised in Sioux land, with a
medicine man for a father and a hyperactive school teacher for a mother. You’d
be surprised how many things I do at this ungodly hour!”
La Fiamma chuckled, he liked this guy, he liked him a
lot; he still couldn’t believe how this man had found him and saved his life just
in time. How could that have happened? When he was little, his grandmother had
told him that guardian angels watched over us all the time. Joey didn’t have a
problem with that, but he found it hard to believe that his guardian angel was
a sturdy Native American with a feather hanging from his neck and a liking for
weird teas.
A man whose eyes were so much like...
A man that reminded him so much of his own father.
He shook away that thought. This was someone else, a
different man.
In the dark, he followed that man, and he did it with
trust because he knew he would help him… He would help them both he and Levon…
and God would help all three of them later. So he followed the man blindly until
a few minutes later they came to an abrupt stop.
“What’s up?” Joey tried to catch his breath, he hadn’t
realized how weak he still was.
“This is where I found you” Lightfoot said quietly.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Joey scanned the slope before him and whistled. “Oh man!”
he said quietly, “I didn’t know it was so high”.
“You were lucky.”
“Yeah.” Joe muttered.
Something bright caught his eye and he approached it.
His heart sank as he saw what it was. There, half buried in the mud was Levon’s
white Stetson.
“Oh, no!” Joey shook his head, carefully trying to remove
the hat from the ground. “Oh, no,” he repeated.
“Oh, bummer!” Gordon said behind him. “Well, that’s ruined
for good.”
“Levon’s gonna be so pissed.” Joey’s voice came out distant
and hopeless. He suddenly felt like the whole world had fallen upon him. There
in the ground lay Levon’s hat, and for a moment.. just for a moment, Joey had
visualized his partner laying there with it.
His partner… his brother… fallen on the mud, as broken
and wounded… as white and cold… as the white Stetson he loved so much.
His best friend. He could have already lost his best
friend.
Joey had seen that image, just for a moment.
But it was enough.
Joey didn’t know what to feel, he didn’t know what to
do. Harsh reality had suddenly attacked and caught Joey totally off guard. His
heart was crying out in fear, his body was crying out in pain… and he didn’t know
which would kill him first. The world spun and he suddenly had to sit or he would
fall.
“Woah, there, hoss,” a strong hand kept him steady and
helped him down. “Take it easy. You had a bad fall and that hard head of yours
isn’t well yet.”
Sitting on the floor, the Italian rubbed his neck and
didn’t answer. His mind was miles away with his lost best friend, who could be
dead by now.
Why?
Why did these things have to happen to them all the time?
Why hadn’t he come to find Levon sooner?
Why had Levon left without him?
Why had they fought like that?
Why had Joey let his anger drive him?
‘Yeah,
you’re right... I meant every word.’
Why had he said that?
Joe would never forget the look in Levon’s eyes when
he had said that.
Damn! Why had Joey allowed himself to become so blind?
But then again, why had Levon pushed it like that?
Why did he think the world revolved around him?
Why was he so stubborn?
So damn stubborn!
Now that same stubbornness had driven him out here by
himself and thrown him into a freezing river, and there was nothing Joey could
do but try and find him and pray he was all right. Damn stubbornness that ran
in equal shares inside both his and Levon’s bloodstreams… that made them so tough,
so good at what they did…
So difficult to defeat, so difficult to talk to.
So alike…
Such good friends.
Both of them, stubborn as hell.
“That’s why.” Joey whispered.
“What?” Lightfood asked.
“Damn. I’m such an idiot, Lundy.”
Gordon frowned. “Hey. You still with me, kid?”
“God, please...” He kept whispering, “I’m such an asshole!
God, how can I make this right?”
The Sioux kneeled before Joey and waited, he knew that
whatever demons had grasped the young man’s soul had to be beaten without outside
help. Everyone had to face their own battles alone. That’s what his father had
taught him for years, and that was what he had taught his own son as well.
Joey sat there, thinking, his eyes lost. Suddenly he
spoke out loud. “Gordon.”
Lightfoot raised his eyebrows. It was the first time
Joey had addressed by his name. “Yes?”
“I don’t know how…”
“How what?”
“How to look for him. How will I find him? I’m just a
city guy, I have no idea how to do this.” He kept his gaze on the ground, but
his voice betrayed his fear.
“I’ll help you.”
“Do you know how?”
“We’ll play it by ear, kid. Come on, get up. We’ll find
him.”
Joey didn’t move. “What if he’s…” his voice trailed off.
Gordon suddenly felt he was talking to a child. A scared child having nightmares
in the middle of the night. A terrified child.
“Hey,” he frowned, “Haven’t you been listening to what
I say? Trust the land, Joe. It’s good land.”
Joey lifted his eyes and stared at the man before him
right in the eye, “Where did you come from, Gordon?”
The man was about to answer, but something in Joey’s
eyes stopped him. Whatever he was asking didn’t have anything to do with his home
state.
There was a pause, then Lightfoot stood and offered his
hand to Joey. “Let’s go find your friend, Joe.”
The Italian stared at the Sioux for a second and then
accepted the helping hand.
“Yeah.”
Without another word Joey grabbed his best friend’s ruined
hat and placed it back on his own head.
‘Time’s a wastin’ came Levon’s voice inside his mind.
He closed his eyes and tried to shake the damn feeling
behind his neck. He wouldn’t allow fear to drive him. Not now. This was important.
‘I’m
coming, dude! Hold on.’
Sometime later the two men were following the river again.
oooo0000oooo
He was so tired. He had spent most of the night waiting
for the storm to end inside an abandoned shelter and there had been no food.
He was hungry.
Only one thing kept him going forward.
Pure hate.
Still, he needed to rest. Just another mile or so and
he’d rest, if only he could find a cave or something.
oooo0000oooo
The small fire inside the cave had died long ago. Levon
woke up sore, hurting and shivering. His clothes hadn’t dried up completely yet
and the morning chill wasn’t helping. He sat up slowly, fighting the nausea and
dizzyness that threatened to overcome him, and looked around.
His head was pounding fiercely and his entire body hurt.
How could he feel so bad after a good night sleep?
Well, it hadn’t really been a good night.
Levon reached for the half full water bottle and took
a long sip. Boy, was he thirsty! The terrible headache and heavyness he felt told
him his fever was still there.
Sharp pain suddenly fired up his leg and he instinctively
reached a hand to the wound, it was wet with fresh blood and it burned more with
every passing moment. Levon hissed as he accidentally hit the wall with his injured
shoulder. He lifted the makeshift bandage he’d made from a piece of his torn up
shirt and cursed. The cut was angry as hell, it was obviously becoming infected.
“Damn!” Levon swore again. He tried to clean the wound
again with a some of the water, but he was too weak. Loud ringing attacked his
ears and another wave of pain and nausea fell upon him.
He knew he needed to get out of the cave. He needed help.
He needed a doctor.
He knew he had to get up.
He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
oooo0000oooo
“So, this guy,” Joey said as he followed Lightfoot along
the river and scanned both shores at the same time.
“What guy?” the Sioux stepped over some rocks.
“This other Gordon guy,” Joey continued, “What’s the
deal with him? Were you named after him?”
“Oh, no! When I was born he wasn’t famous. He was a kid.
Or maybe I’m way older than him, I think… I don’t know.”
“Oh, so you were baptized in the same church!”
“That’s highly unlikely Joey,” Gordon chuckled. “I’m
an Oglala Sioux, remember?”
“Ah, I’m just delirious. Never mind,” Joey shook his
head, his eyes still focused on the search, and smiled, “It’s just an old stupid
thing I remembered from my childhood.”
“What is that?”
“Well, I’m from South side Chicago, and I lived in a
very Italian neighborhood, if you know what I mean.” Joey almost tripped, caught
a treetrunk with his injured shoulder and hissed in pain.
“You okay?” Gordon asked.
“Yeah,” Joey dismissed it and continued walking. “Anyway,
there were many children with the same name, like our parents suddenly ran out
of ideas at once. In my classroom alone there were five Marias, three Ginos and
five Michaels.”
“Five?”
“Yeah. I was among the lucky seven, seven Josephs. Of
course, I was the only one they called Joey! Too damn short.”
Gordon chuckled.
“So one day someone came up with the idea that all the
Michaels had been baptized in the same church, down on third.”
“St. Michael’s of course.”
“Nah, it wasn’t ‘cause of that, it’s just that the priest
there had very bad memory. They said that was why he called everybody ‘Son’.”Joey
smiled at the memory. “So he couldn’t remember that he’d already named a kid Michael
and he did it again and again; Of course, the idea was so stupid that made everyone
laugh. Then later they said the same thing about everbody else. You got the same
name as the kid next to ya, you were baptized on the same church. Of course I
knew better! See, it’s my curse. I know about a million Joes. Joe’s the most common
name ever. I’m sure of that!”
Lightfoot smiled at the tale and suddenly broke out laughing.
“What?”
“My son. I named him Joe.”
“There ya go!” Joey chuckled again, “I rest my case.”
A clearing opened before them and Joey’s nagging feeling
increased. He stopped dead on his tracks.
Before him Lightfoot put a knee on the ground and began
examining something stuck in the mud. As he got the piece of white material out
he swore in Lakhota. “Look at this!”
Joey walked over to the man and froze, he knew that material.
It was a ripped piece of one of Lundy’s shirts, and it was all bloody.
“Damn!” he said, scanning the surroundings. “It’s his!”
“He must have come out of the river here. Maybe took
shelter in one of the caves up there,” Lightfoot said pointing at a large rock
formation up ahead toward the mountains. “Some campers discovered them a few years
back, they’re good caves.”
“How would he know about them?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a shot. We should look there?”
“Right!” Joey started walking toward the caves, but Lightfoot
didn’t follow. Joey stopped to see him still sqatting, studying some prints.
“What?”
“Igmutaka” the man mumbled.
“Come again?” Joey was perplexed.
He stood up straight and scanned the other side of the
river, then he spoke, “Over there,” he pointed down east. “There’s a ranger’s
post near by, about a mile and a half downriver, on the other side. If you walk
down by the shore, there’s a way to get across down by a large boulder. I was
there last summer.”
“We have to go get him first!”
“They have medical supplies and a radio. I can go and
call for help, and maybe bring some rangers, if any of them stayed the night,
you can go see if he’s in the caves. We’ll make almost no time if we separate,
and maybe he’ll need more help than we can give him.” He stared back at Joey’s
blue orbs. He was dead serious.
“Right,” Joey nodded. “I’ll go get Lundy.”
“If he’s not in the caves, keep searching, I’ll follow
your trail.”
“Okay.” Joey said. “Thanks, Gordon.”
“You go up there. Be careful. There’s a mountain lion
around.” He warned, and pointed to the ground before him, “These are his prints.”
“Mountain lion?”
“Igmutaka.”
Joey shivered, “All right.”
Gordon offered his hand to Joey who took it in a firm
grip. “Keep your eyes open,” he said, then he started down east. In a few moments
he was gone.
‘Be careful’ Joey kept thinking as he started walking,
‘Keep your eyes open - right! -
Mountain lion - right!’
He shook his head.
‘God, I miss Chicago!’
‘sigh’.
oooo0000oooo
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