I2

I2

"Oh, I almost forgot," Hansen said. "Your wife is dead."

"Oh, I know, sir."

"What do you mean, you know? You don't seem too cut up over it."

"Cut up. I get it, sir."

"The last thing I need from you is your mouth, boy."

"She predicted it would  happen, sir," Gabriel  said. "Besides, our Lord himself said, 'He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'"

"Do you know what I believe,  son? I believe the  death of your so-called wife makes me the Prophet of the Church. And I believe you still have some rooms to clean."

Tashunka waited outside  the  sheriff's office  long past  when Roddy said he'd meet him, trying to stay warm inside his running truck. Roddy apologized for the delay and invited the old fellow to come indoors for some fresh coffee. "Doctor Wahkan had some interesting things to say," the sheriff told him.

Tashunka followed Walker inside and  sat shivering in  his seat until the coffee was ready. "And what of the three stupid boys who took  a bullwhip to  a plains  Indian and didn't  think he'd have friends who could do something far worse in retaliation?"

"The three  stupid  boys  were still  there  looking  perfectly miserable until they laid eyes on  the dead girl. That seemed to make  their  whole  day.  Would  that  Headwater  had  a  bigger hospital.  They wouldn't  tell me  what was  so funny.  I figure you're about to tell me."

Tashunka leaned back in his  seat nursing the coffee. His eyes landed on  a  photograph  of  the  elder  Sheriff  Walker,  now deceased. Two years already? "Everyone greatly respected your father, Roddy, both  White Wing and Red Wing alike.  I was there at his Final Rite."

Roddy flushed with  sudden  anger. "And I, his  son, was  not permitted to  be there  because I don't  believe in  fairy tales about angels  and sun  gods and  killing relics  and I  made the mistake of letting everybody know that."