Saying Goodbye

Ace went home early. Shutting the place down, restocking the bar, counting all the till —it used to appeal to him, or at least satisfy him. But now, he felt exhausted at ten, did what restocking he could in the seconds in between orders, and was out by eleven at the latest. He was recovering from surgery; he knew that.

It annoyed him to ask Nina, his bar back, to come in early to help move the deliveries into the walk-in, or to scoop ice. And, he was getting better, less inclined to drop things, like expensive beer mugs. But, he felt shaky and a little sick at ten, nearly on the dot, so he did as his physical therapist told him to. He listened to his body.

Once he was out, on the streets, it was still early in Vegas. The traffic wasn’t fun, and pedestrians leapt out in front of him as if suicidal. Many times, he had been glad for the relative nimbleness of a Harley. A truck would have killed more than one drunken reveler, crossing the street in the dark in dark clothing.

Once, he almost ran over a guy and his kids crossing the street in the dark, because of dark clothing. He made a U-turn, swung around, and gave the guy the scare of his life.

“If you want to take yourself out, fine, but taking out your kids? What are you doing? And why the hell are your kids awake at one in the morning?” The guy was sober, a swing worker taking the kids back to the ex.

Ace told him to wear reflective jackets at night and to make sure his kids didn’t get run over. The guy agreed wholeheartedly, and swore he’d never do it again. He felt bad about scaring the guy, but the kids deserved better.

He made it home without any life-threatening incidents. He had listened to his body. Now, it told him, say, ‘hello’ to your wife if she’s awake. He parked the bike after damn near gliding it in so as not to wake up the neighbors. He went in, and got dog kisses. He played with them, gave them a few commands. They obeyed perfectly, so he showered them with praise.

He took off his leathers and his boots, and went to the kitchen and drank some water. He went into the bedroom, and found Lily sleeping. He stripped and took a shower, quietly, so as not to wake her; the dogs went back to their beds. The bathroom door opened, and he thought his wife would pee and go back to bed. Instead, through the glass, he saw her strip quickly, and step in. She held him tightly and he stroked her hair, feeling the hot water beating on his back.

She kissed him, long and low, then sweet with a hint of sadness.

Must be thinking about her brother, he thought to himself. He stroked his hands through her hair, down her back. She kissed him more insistently, stroking her hands down his back, encircling his cock with her fingers, grabbing his balls and squeezing He kissed her harder, stronger. Stroking down her back and cupping her buttocks. All thoughts of getting clean left his mind. He wanted to get dirty with her.

He cupped her breasts, kissed them one by one, then sucked one while caressing the other. He felt her back arch, felt her go up and over. She screamed into his mouth. He switched breasts, and slipped one of his hands He touched her thighs, found her button, made her scream and claw his back as he put his finger on her spot and vibrated it.

She came, again and again, in shuddering waves that made her nearly sob. She held on tightly to his neck, and he lifted her hips, settling her onto him. She chose the rhythm, rising and falling, and he lifted her to help her. They came at the same time, her kisses raining down on his lips, his neck. He lifted her off, and washed them both. He washed, then conditioned her hair, and she moaned with pleasure.

She stepped out. He shaved, then turned off the water, and took the towel she offered him. He dried himself quickly, and so did she. He blow-dried her hair as she added the lotions and potions she liked to her skin, making her smell of jasmine and cherry blossom.

They went to bed. He held her, her head on his shoulder, her leg over his stomach. He put the other hand on her thigh. She snuggled in, and both were asleep in moments.

She woke suddenly. He looked at the time with one eye, a little after four in the morning. He closed the eye, until she touched his face. He opened it again.

“I know where I want to put the ashes.”

Devlin, her brother. She’d been staring at the urn of ashes, on a shelf in the living room. She sometimes talked to it. They were both out cold in the hospital, dark days they’d been letting go of. Devlin had no will, so Ivy had Devlin cremated and put in a simple urn. She had given information about places to put the ashes, or where to spread them, but there were too many blows in too little time. They hadn’t had a ceremony for the miscarriage, either. Lily had been so fragile.

He attempted to get his mind in gear. “Where?” he asked.

“I was trying to figure it out. Why put it somewhere? I mean, am I really going to visit a plot or a mausoleum somewhere? He’s dead. He’s here,” she said, and pointed at her head. “And here.” She pointed at her heart. “I was so hung up on where he liked to go, what he liked to do. He was never really into sports, except skating, and he gave up skateboards when he got into drinking and meth. What am I going to do? Spread his ashes at a meth house? Bury him with a fifth of Jim Beam? That’s his addiction. That’s not who he was.”

“So, where?” asked Ace, struggling to focus. He wanted to sleep until noon, and grab some food, then head into work. He put the thought of sleep out of his mind. His wife was making progress, so he needed to try and keep up.

“So, I decided to put him someplace where I like to go. He’s dead, right? This is really for me, not him. It’s in all the grief recovery thingies… books. Anyway, he should be where I like, so I can be at peace. He’s already there. He died sober, and could see a new way of life. I’m really grieving what he didn’t get to have, what we have —home, family, lots of friends, work we love, dogs, family… did I say family?”

“Once or twice,” he said, trying to follow the flow of words.

“So, I was thinking Lake Havasu. Love the paddle boarding. Very peaceful. It’s my favorite spot. But, I don’t go there all the time. So… Lake Mead!”

“That’s great,” he said, still trying to keep up. At least Lake Mead was close.

“Let’s go,” she said, springing up. She put on underwear, then a camisole bra top.

“Honey,” he said, “It’s four in the morning. Can we do it…”

“Sunrise,” she said. “Perfect.”

If his wife said it was perfect, then it was perfect. Ace stood, put on briefs, then struggled with sleepy fingers and a non-working brain to put on jeans.

She grabbed a top and ran out of the room. He sat heavily. He texted Ivy that he would be out at Lake Mead at Devlin’s sunrise funeral, and that he may not be in to work, due to lack of sleep. He sent the text, forgetting that it was Monday and Dirty Vegas would be closed. He groaned, then figured out that Ivy would just ignore it, realizing he had a stupid brain.

He put on socks and a shirt, and stumbled out of the bedroom to get coffee. He stumbled back in when he saw his hair in the bedroom mirror. He brushed it, then stumbled toward the bathroom.

Ivy got the message, then sat up in bed. “Wha…” asked Callie.

“Do your Chinese thing and get Bao over here to watch the kids.” She slapped her own forehead. “I forgot, they’re already there. It’s Devlin’s funeral. At Lake Mead. This morning.” She threw her legs off the bed.

Callie realized that her wife was making sense in the morning. She got the words “funeral” and “Lily,” but the idea of “Devlin” confused her until she realized it was Lily’s brother. She stood, lurched, and made it to the bathroom. She peed forever, then stumbled back in. Ivy took her place, already dressed in jeans.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” she said, heading toward a hairbrush.

They managed to get dressed and onto the bikes. Callie headed for some breakfast burritos and grabbed several cans of Coke after feeding the dog; she had her own dog door. They consumed them while putting on their leathers. Callie sent a text in Chinese saying they were headed out for the day to Bao, and they headed out.

Gregory received the text from Ivy about the funeral. He kissed his wife, and told her he had to go out. He dressed silently, pulling on black jeans and a black shirt. Lily was not a coat and tie type of person. He crept out, careful not to wake the babies, sleeping in their cribs, their little faces peaceful.

He also did not want to wake up the babushkas. They had moved in until the babies slept through the night. He had no privacy, but he and his wife also got more sleep. He heated a breakfast burrito and grabbed some sodas.

Katya nearly made him crawl out of his skin, appearing behind him, fully dressed. “You go to funeral. I got same text. I go. I bring express milk thing, put in —how do you say? —saddlebag. We are family. We go together.”

He held her close. “You are the best wife in the world,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“This, I know,” she said, opening the microwave door and stealing his breakfast burrito. She reached behind him, and pulled another one out of the freezer. “I make another,” she said, putting it in the microwave. “I get pack,” she said, trundling down the hall, eating the burrito.

Don’t know what I did to deserve her, thought Gregory, but she’s mine.

Tito got the text. He was already up; he was planning on shamelessly using the Wolfpack’s child labor to clean out a new acquisition, a trashed duplex he intended to restore and sell, probably to one of the Nighthawks. He sent a text to cancel, and received one back from Henry that the teens were being herded into the van to sleep on the way.

Vi volunteered to watch the baby and the elders, and the rest of the household took last night’s reheated biscuits and sodas or coffee on the road. The teens were zombies, but Nantan had them in the truck, back asleep under blankets, in record time.

Ghost and Killa woke up Bonnie, and they headed out in the dark. Bear had been sleeping at the club, and he followed.

Ace’s efforts to slow his wife down so he could drink more caffeine were nixed. He did manage to cook her a fast scrambled egg and reheated precooked bacon and get her to eat. Then, the urn went in the saddlebag, and they were off.

The phalanx wasn’t behind them by much. Lost in their own thoughts, they opened the throttle, and soon left them behind, not knowing they were being followed.

They went to the spot they usually went, to the cliff looking out over the lake, translucent in the pre-dawn light. Ace received a text from Ivy asking where they were. He replied, confused, and put the phone on vibrate in his pocket. He wanted to pay attention to his wife.

“Tell me everything about him,” he said, looking out over the water. She talked about the boy she followed everywhere, and he settled in to listen.

They heard the bikes long before they saw them, long lines of Harleys followed by a van, with lights on in the darkness. Lily clutched her chest, urn at her feet, and turned to watch them come up, with tears streaming down her face. Ace realized his text had set off a wave of concern from their friends… no, their family. He wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, and had tears of his own at their standing with them. The tears fell onto her hair.

They came up, parked the bikes, locked their helmets, and came to embrace them. Ivy and Callie first, then Gregory and Katya, Tito and several of his brood, Henry and David, Inola and Bella, Nantan and Jeffrey, and a herd of half-awake teens tumbling out of a giant van. They stood, and, once Lily had wiped away her tears, she found her voice.

“My brother was an idiot,” she said. They all laughed. “He didn’t get how much I loved him. I used to follow him around, try to do the things he did, like baseball and skateboarding. He ignored me. I tried to protect him from Dad’s temper, and we both failed there. We would hide in closets or under the bed, sneak out the windows, go hide in the neighbor’s backyard under their trampoline. He never figured out the trampoline thing.” She laughed, a bitter one.

They were all silent.

“He got into drinking, then drugs, like our dad. It’s genetic, you know, and he was trying to stop the pain. Then he got sober, for a little while, and he was getting some peace. He apologized to me, right before he died. He knew he lived his life wrong and he wanted to live his life right. He never got that chance.”

Ace held her hand, proud of her strength, now.

“Devlin, you idiot, I love you. I forgive you. And I fucking wish you’d had that chance. So, I’ll take that chance for you. I’m married, now. Someone else is having our baby, which is weird, but it works for us.” There was laughter, and Ace kissed his wife’s temple. “We have Kieran and Pavel, and dogs, and we’re thinking of getting a cat, because I want to be a cat’s slave.” More laughter rippled out.

The mood lightened as they all felt a part of something.

“I stand here, surrounded by family, one you didn’t get to know. So, I’m getting to know them, and loving them like crazy, and we’re going to go to places and do things that are fun and happy. I’ll live a great life. And, when I join you in this water someday, and I’ve knocked on Heaven’s door, I’ll tell you all about that life. I believe people get reborn, that this is a giant lesson in spiritual stuff, like how to live and how to love. I hope you come back and get to try again, to do it better next time. Then, you can come and tell me all about yours. Just, don’t be an idiot next time. Learn how to love.” She opened the urn as the dawn shed light across her face, and it spilled into the air, falling on the water. She then threw the urn off the cliff. “Be free, you idiot,” she said, into the wind. “Find your peace.”

Ace held her close, and she put her face against his arm. He felt the hot wetness of tears on his skin.

Ivy stepped forward. “Find your peace, and learn how to love,” she said, moving to stand next to Ace.

Callie stepped next to Ivy. “Find out how to have a family in your next life.”

Henry stepped forward, and stood next to Ace on his other side. “Find the Great Road, and walk upon it with others.”

David stepped forward, and stood next to Henry. “Be free, and remember that your sister loved you.”

Numa stepped forward, and stood next to David. “Let it go, and be free. Fly forward to the next life.”

Tito stepped forward, his kids in tow, and stood next to Numa. “Have kids. They’re the best thing ever.”

Gregory stood forward, with Katya, and stood next to Callie. “We’ll tell our nieces and nephews about you, and love them for you.” Ace and Lily both sobbed a little at that one.

Nantan took the teens forward. “Be free, my brother. I never knew you, but fly like a hawk into the dawn.”

Ghost, Killa, and Bonnie stepped forward, and stood next to Katya. Ghost said, “When Lily sees you again.”

They sang then, When I See You Again, by Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth, softly, into the dawn. Then David, Henry, and Numa sang him home, their voices rising and falling. Nantan sang the songs of his people. They held each other; crying, laughing, walking around, talking to each other, hugging each other.

They found a waffle house, and loaded up on pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, and biscuits loaded with butter and honey. They talked about the day they met each other, each willing to head down memory lane. The teens got into it, talking about their first day at the ranch, meeting the horses, learning how to pick strawberries.

“It’s easy,” said Alo. “I put them high, so they hang down. Just reach up, grab them.”

The teens settled in when they talked about rides. “We need another one,” said Alo. “Let’s go someplace epic.”

Ripples of laughter went around the table. Nantan smiled, pulled paper and a pen out his pocket, and said, “Get some places, and some things to do. Then, make a list of places to go. Winter’s coming, so colder places need to be seen, now. Think south in winter.”

Laughter rippled around the table again. “Think Grand Canyon now, Redwoods now,” said Gregory. “San Diego in winter.”

“Now?” asked Alo. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” asked Henry.

“The Grand Canyon.”

“That’s four hours over, five back,” said Henry.

“It’s eight in the morning. Why not?” asked Alo.

“Kid has a point,” said Nantan. “They’ve been working hard.”

“I go home,” said Katya, decisively. “But you go,” she said, kissing Gregory.

“I’ll take you,” said Inola to Katya, then kissing Bella.

“I need something from saddlebag,” said Katya.

“I bet it’s the same thing I brought,” said Inola. They walked away, hand in hand.

“We need snacks,” said Alo. Everyone laughed.

So, they sent the mothers off, and headed off to Arizona, their songs loud in their ears. Henry texted ahead before leaving the waffle house, and old friends texted back to say they would be there.

Gregory and Lily went out first, teens on bikes behind them, the teen helmets helpfully kept in the back of the van. The teens agreed to rotate riding. The teens put themselves in charge of the music, and songs played in their ears.

They made good time. They had lunch in Kingman, Arizona, at a funky diner, with sandwiches and salads. They grabbed some drinks, and headed out.

It seemed like half a tribe of Paiutes were there to greet Henry, Numa, and David. Some Sioux were there to greet Nantan, and he smiled, overjoyed at being able to speak his language. The kids ran around, looking at everything. Gregory, Ace, and Lily kept an eye on them. They ate snacks, drank water, and looked into the vastness of the canyon. They stayed ‘till nearly sundown.

They rode back, kids trading out on who rode with whom. Two more kids were slid into the back of the van, bruised boys named Nico and Tam. They jumped at loud noises. Nantan gave them blankets and sodas, let them sit up in front. They took it slower going back, stopping off in Kingman for a late dinner. The boys were absolutely silent.

Shit, thought Nantan. Now I’ve got to take the parenting classes. Those boys are not going back to where they came from.

They made it back late, and everyone trundled off to bed. Bella rushed up the outer spiral stairs toward her wife. Nantan took the herd to their pods, and then Nantan took the boys to the apartment they’d set up with sleeping pods over the plants downstairs.

“I sleep at the other end of the hall,” he said. “Bathroom’s next to you. There is a little fridge there with sodas and waters in it. We’ve got chores early in the morning.” He closed the door, leaving the tired, frightened boys to figure out who got the top or bottom bunk.

He slapped his own head —clothes. They had a box of them in the other house, as the kids often arrived with little. He went next door, and got packages of boxers and socks, and some jeans and T-shirts they’d bought from thrift stores. He put the clothes in a duffel. He went back and climbed the stairs, and gently knocked on the door.

“I’ve got a duffel here. I’m going to put it inside the door. It’s some clothes.” He opened the door, dropped it in, then shut the door.

He remembered the tablets. He went back to the dorm house, grabbed two off the shelf still in their boxes, and walked them back. He climbed the stairs, and knocked on the door.

“You’ll want to unbox these and plug them in. You have classes after chores.” He put the boxes on the floor, just inside the door, and shut it again.

He heard scrabbling, and “Whoa!” from the older one, Nico. “Tam, do you see an outlet anywhere?” Smiling, Nantan headed down the hall to bed.

Regroup

Nantan was careful. This was different. The boys were refugees from a war played out in a crazy man’s head, and they acted like it. They hoarded food in their room, until Nantan explained about bugs. He bought them a tiny refrigerator and let them keep some snacks and sodas in it, but no dirty cups or dishes; those had to be put in a tub outside the door and washed in the morning. The trash had to be kept in a rubber trash can with a seal. They complied, as long as they knew they would have access to food and drink. They also bolted their food, as if it would be taken away from them.

“Where’s the fire?” one or the other of the Wolfpack would remind them. “Food’s good,” said Ajai. “Taste it, it’s better that way.” It took time, but the boys slowed down their eating, primarily not to seem stupid or silly in front of the other kids.

They didn’t steal or lie. They did jump at loud noises. Nantan made it very clear to the teens that teasing them in any way, with loud noises or ribbing, would not be tolerated. No “fun” pranks, or they would lose any TV or game privileges. They complied, primarily because Ajai, Willow, and Ruby watched the boys like hawks. They made sure they learned how to access their lessons, that they did their schoolwork, and trained them on their chores.

The boys were absolutely in love with the rabbits. Inola taught them how to feed the angora rabbits, clean their cages, and pick up the molted fur and put it in the sealed fur bin.

“Why do we save the fur?” asked Tam.

“Thirty dollars a bag,” said Inola.

“Wow,” said Nico. “What’s it for?”

“It’s spun into yarn and made in to ultra-soft sweaters, mufflers, baby blankets, and the like.” Inola showed them how to pet them —very carefully.

Chores were rotated, so Nico and Tam learned to load the dishwasher, soak and sometimes scrub pots, create simple meals like bacon and eggs or grilled cheese sandwiches. Then tomato soup from a can, or sweep, mop, vacuum, dust, and muck out the stables. Tam was terrified of the horses, so Nico switched with him when he had to feed, curry, or walk them.

The greenhouse astonished and fascinated them. Nantan showed them how the LED lights and misters were set on timers, and the different beds of plants all growing with different-colored lights. He showed them the huge variation in heirloom seeds that produced potatoes and carrots from white to purple, with the carrots making a detour into orange. He showed how to use the gloves and the small cutter to cut fruits and vegetables from the vine, from strawberries to melons, from watermelon to zucchini. The boys learned how to plant the plants on the cloth-like matrix of recycled paper, and how to check the system to be sure everything was working right. Both boys loved to do the checklist, from planting to harvesting.

Nantan taught them the names of all the plants, and their resulting fruit or vegetable. He also taught them the best methods for harvesting, and how to cut the vegetables and fruits and put them into their boxes. The boys loved and were dazzled by it all. They also developed mad knife skills.

Ajai and Willow were in charge of their room inspection, showing them how to change their sheets, color-coded to them in particular. Since they had a full house and all the colors were taken, Nantan had the superhero conversation with them.

“Iron Man,” said Nico. “He rocks.”

“Hawkeye,” said Tam. “He can shoot arrows.”

“We can teach you that,” said Nantan. They were overjoyed. So, Nantan ordered everything Iron Man, from sheets to pillowcases to comforters to blankets, even toothbrushes and toothbrush cup.

Tam got Hawkeye almost everything, but had to settle for the arrow-emblazoned toothbrush and cup holder. He got three sets of the sheets, and needed a rubber under-sheet for Tam. He wet the bed in his sleep during his nightmares. Nico helped his brother change the sheets in the night, and Nantan made sure the sheets were stored in the room itself.

Clothes were easy. An hour in a Wal-Mart and they were set. They loved their new jeans. Nantan even got them cowboy boots and hats. He got them leather jackets at a thrift store. The boys loved them. They gained weight and shot up a bit. Their teeth were checked, and they had no cavities, probably because they’d eaten so little. Now, they craved cookies, something Vi was happy to provide; oatmeal, apple, chocolate-chip, and macadamia nut cookies. They couldn’t get enough.

Nantan never entered their room. He figured their crazy father had done that enough. He never raised his voice, or made sudden moves or loud noises around them. He didn’t drink, and what little liquor they had in the farmhouse was primarily for cooking, and Vi kept it locked up.

They were way behind the other kids in school. Henry tested them. Nantan could have sent them to the Nighthawks club school, but they loved sitting with the other students at the house in their beanbag chairs. Henry and Callie got them at the right levels, and they zipped through them. Alo slowly and steadily got them through math; the math games on their tablets helped. They even played them at night in their beds. Catori helped them with their reading. They responded well to her gentle tone of voice, and her laughter. They wanted to participate in the coding contests Yanaba and Gwen liked to hold. The boys soon zipped past Yoki, Lena, and Elu, who spent more time giggling than coding. Henry made them study separately, in completely different corners or rooms, and their grades took a sudden jump up. They were still allowed to do chores together, as long as the chores actually got done.

* * *

Inola had them shovel horse shit and haul hay as soon as she could. “They’re animals, very intelligent ones,” she said to Tam. “Your fear scares them. Face your fear. Start with petting the ponies. They’re smaller, and they are docile.”

“What’s docile?” asked Tam.

“Calm,” said Inola. “Relaxed. Take a deep breath, let it out. Good. Put your shoulders down; they don’t need to be around your ears. Good. Now, just look at Spice. He’s a kind of cinnamon color. Very calm, very relaxed horse. See his eyes? His mane? That’s the hair down his neck. His front feet, his back feet. Now, when you go to see him, you bring him some of these.” She handed Tam some carrots. “Keep them in your pocket. Now, let’s go feed him some.”

“No!” said Tam. He raised his shoulders nearly to his ears and clenched his fists.

“Breathe,” said Inola. “You stopped breathing, there.” He sucked in a breath.

“Fear,” said Inola, “Is good, if you are crossing the street. It’s a good idea to look both ways, and to jump out of the way if some asshole tries to run you over, right?” Tam nodded, and smiled because Inola used a bad word.

“Yes, so, that’s good fear. I’m afraid of sticking my hands in the fire at a cookout. I keep back, careful with the stick I use to roast my marshmallows. I want to roast the marshmallows, not me!”

Tam laughed. “Can we roast marshmallows?”

“We’ve got a fire pit out back. Don’t see why not. We usually do it during game night, after the games and popcorn and sodas.”

“When’s that?” asked Tam.

“Tomorrow night,” said Inola. She grinned as Tam actually rubbed his hands together with glee. “Anyway, fear tends to turn your brain off. It’s set on fight or flight. Both might be good moves, but it usually causes you to freeze first. Freezing is great when you need time to think. It’s bad when a bear is chasing you.”

“You’ll get it,” said Tam.

“Exactly,” said Inola. “And, unless the bear is attacking someone else, it’s smarter to flee, not fight, a bear.”

“So, fear makes you freeze, and freezing can be bad.”

“Yes, Tam,” said Inola. “It also turns off your brain. Remember, horses rarely act out. If they do, they are usually scared. Like if they see a snake. A horse will leap away from the snake, which is actually smart. Or, if someone abuses them, they learn bad behavior because they’re scared.”

“Like if someone hits them?”

“Exactly like that,” said Inola, knowing perfectly well they were no longer talking about horses. “Scared horses run away; they nip, they bite, they buck off riders, because they’re scared. We use techniques to help them stop being scared. We’re gentle with them. We don’t hit them or make loud noises or yell at them. We show them we love them by keeping their stalls clean, feeding them good food, letting them out into the sunshine in the morning. We feed them carrots and apples, talk to them gently, and pet them. We walk them and comb and curry them. We check their hooves for rocks. We call the vet when they’re sick. We love them. And, they calm down, and we show them we trust them. So, they trust us.”

“I can clean out their stalls,” said Tam. “After they’re out.”

“That’s a good start,” said Inola. She showed him how to muck out the stables, working with him. She sang “The Never-ending Song,” making him laugh. She showed him how to clean the tack, and how much food each horses needed at night.

Late that night, as Nantan made sure they brushed their teeth, Tam rinsed his mouth, spat, and turned to Nantan. “Was my father scared?” he asked.

Nantan knew he had to answer the question well. “Yes,” he said. “Bullies who harm others are usually taught that by others, like their fathers. They grow up scared and angry, so they take these emotions out on others. They are afraid of being less, of being laughed at, of being ignored, but their behavior makes them less. It makes other people stay away. They are also afraid of those bigger than them, so they hit those smaller than them to make their small souls feel bigger. So, they get more angry, more fearful, and behave in worse and worse ways. It is a terrible trap.”

“I hate Dad,” said Nico.

“That’s understandable,” said Nantan. “His behavior was unacceptable. But, his father did it to him, maybe back ten generations. He learned it. The idea, if you learned it, is to unlearn it. Be and behave the opposite. Strength is being physically strong, yet gentle and kind. It is in defending others who are smaller than you from those who would hurt them. It is in listening with both ears and your heart. It is in learning all you can so you can make intelligent decisions, ones not based on strong emotions, like anger or fear.”

“Let’s read,” said Tam. So, Nantan sat them down in the hallway right there, pulled out his cell phone, and read to them. When their eyes were starting to close, he sent them to their room to sleep.

The chores, once Tam got over his fear of the horses, made them strong and lean. Dena raced them everywhere, and they stopped huffing and puffing after the first week or so. Vi’s huge breakfasts and dinners put meat on their bones, and probably the late-night snacking did as well.

Getting them to bed was the problem. Other than their tendencies to read under the covers, something Nantan embraced wholeheartedly, they didn’t want to miss anything. They went through life with wide eyes and, over time, eager smiles. They still had nightmares, where one would comfort the other. They still jumped at loud noises. But, they were slowly settling in, their skin turning a deeper cinnamon from being in the sun.

Nantan desperately needed a day off. The pickers rotated, even through Saturday and Sunday, so that wasn’t the problem. Game night had gone great; he’d played a little, then slipped away to get some things from the store and give himself a Sonic sundae. He’d even arrived in time for the last games, and some s’mores. The boys ate two each, smearing their faces with chocolate and marshmallow. He’d had to use three wet wipes on them. He took them for trail rides, always with another teen or adult, when Tam would finally sit on a pony.

Once he realized he wouldn’t get bucked off, Tam loved riding. Getting him off his favorite pony, Spice, was the problem. They often had movie nights and gaming contests, and the boys loved coding their own games. What he needed was time alone. So, he set up “camping” in the big house in tents in the living room; it was too cold at night in the winter in the desert. Vi showed them how to bake cookies for the “trip,” and Henry and David were set to tell them many stories.

The problem was, of course, the boys not wanting him to go. They begged him to stay.

Henry solved the problem by saying, “Nantan is Sioux, like you. Warriors need time alone with their thoughts, to relax, to gather their strength together.”

Henry had been learning Sioux, and sang the song of going forth well. It was a hunting song, but good enough, so Nantan sang back. He went out, put on his helmet, and rode away on his Harley, tears on his face at the goodness of Henry, loving the little boys and honoring him with a Sioux hunting song.

Little Bill and Keyan met him at a restaurant in Boulder City, overlooking the lake. Little Bill and Keyan were both Apache, but Little Bill was huge and all muscle, with dark skin and long, blue-black hair he kept in a braid.

Keyan was a slight man with a lilting voice and strong hands, his hair also in a braid. Little Bill taught Sioux, so he gave Nantan a thick box of textbooks, workbooks, and storybooks in Apache.

“Thanks for this,” said Nantan, in Apache. “I need to teach them. I wrote a little program —I had help from the coding girls, but this will help me teach more.” The server came up, and all three men ordered steaks, potatoes, vegetables, and colas.

“Show me pictures,” said Little Bill. Nantan showed him the boys on hiking trails, on ponies, stuffing their faces with pizza. “Norman boys, healthy,” said Little Bill. “Show me their test scores.” Nantan pulled up and explained the scores. “They are much improved,” he said.

“Their weight is up. The psychologist says they are doing well. The nightmares are farther apart. It breaks my heart not to go in and comfort them, but I understand why I must not set foot in their rooms. Ajai helps them keep it clean, everything in its place. She made me order boxes, and bins, and a label machine. Now the boys have labels for everything, even their sleeping pods! Nico calls his The Nest, and Tam calls his…” Nantan had to clear his throat, “his home.”

“Good,” said Keyan. “They are doing better than we hoped. Bodaway is still in jail. He cannot come up with bail.”

“And Anpona, his wife?”

“We are suing to have the machines turned off. It is terrible for her to be kept alive against her will. But, Bodaway insists that she live, and even though he is the one that hit her, he has not yet been convicted. So, the courts are siding with him.”

Nantan snorted. “Of course he says that. If she dies, his charges turn to murder.”

“We failed,” said Little Bill. “The house is just off the reservation, so we did not have jurisdiction. We sent women to talk to Anpona, but she was weak and exhausted. We brought clothes, food, and medicine for the boys, but either Bodaway used what we brought for himself, or he destroyed it, saying he did not wish to take charity. It is only because the boy is registered full Sioux, and that they ran into the res to call for help, that we can now help them. We want them on the res, but they are safer and happier with you.”

“Thank you,” said Nantan.

They spoke of jobs and fishing and rides other inconsequential things. Nantan was just happy to hear and speak his language.

Both men clasped hands with him. “Go,” said Keyan. “Your man stares at you.” Juan was sitting at the bar, staring longingly at Nantan.

Nantan sighed. “He did not agree with my taking all my responsibilities, and now I have two more.” He laughed without mirth. “I wonder what he will say now.”

“Find out,” said Keyan. “He may surprise you.”

“Good night,” said Nantan. He watched them leave.

Juan brought his soda over to Nantan. “Is this seat taken?” he asked.

“No,” said Nantan. “Please sit.”

Juan sat heavily in the booth. “Friends of yours?”

“I hope so,” said Nantan. “And they are here to make sure the boys are well.”

“Wolfpack,” said Juan, drinking more cola.

“No, Apache boys. I am adopting them, if it is to be.”

Juan nearly dropped his can. “Adopting?”

Nantan sighed. “Their father hit their mother over the head and put her in the hospital. She will die. She was finally trying to protect her boys.” He pulled up a picture he had taken their first day, their bruises clear on their faces, and terror and resignation in their eyes.

“Dios mio,” said Juan. “And now?”

Nantan scrolled to a more recent picture, of the boys laughing during a card game. “Wonderful before and after photos,” said Juan. “You have the touch. Horses and Apache boys.” Juan smiled, sadly. “I get it, now. This is your life’s work. You raise things, plants and horses and teens and boys. I just…” Juan looked away. “I just wanted a man, you know? To laugh with, share a life with. I’m young. I want to see life, do things, not be tied to a farm and kids.”

“You made that clear before,” said Nantan, sipping his own cola. A waitress came and took the plates, and Nantan smiled at her. He paid the check that she left, and left a generous tip.

“I miss you,” said Juan. “Other guys aren’t you. You’re funny, and strong, and speak three languages, and can cook. I’m just some guy who works in a casino.”

“Ah,” said Nantan. “You’re selling yourself short. These plants, and horses, and people are my life; bring me great joy. And, it is fucking exhausting. That’s part of why I’m here, a break from all the responsibilities you don’t want to shoulder. They could bring you great joy, too.”

“I know,” said Juan. “I’m just not ready. And,” he said, holding up a hand, “I’m not asking you to wait.”

“What are you asking for?”

“One night,” said Juan. “Just one damn night.”

Nantan followed Juan to his hotel, one that looked out over the lake. They came together in the dark, the stars outside their window. Juan was tentative at first, content to let Nantan lead, but Nantan stepped back, forcing Juan to reach out. They took off each other’s clothes in the dark; leathers and boots, then shirts. They pulled each other close, kissing deeply, hands on the back of each other’s heads. Juan took of Nantan’s jeans, and Nantan took off Juan’s, stroking his back. They got off the underwear and socks, and Juan got some courage. He pushed Nantan into the wall, and kissed him, touched him, licked and kissed his neck, then his shoulder. He slid his fingers down, clutched Nantan’s buttocks, felt Nantan’s hardness in his hands. He knelt then, kissed, stroked, and sucked, and held Nantan’s balls in one hand while he held the base of his penis with the other. Nantan came with a groan, pushing his head back against the wall. He reached down to his jeans and pulled out wet wipes. He wiped himself down while Juan washed his hands in the bathroom. They fell on the bed into each other’s arms, and fought the dawn.

When Nantan woke, there was nothing, not even a note. He stared at the ceiling, but he was unable to regret their last night together. He took a shower, dressed, and went down to the hotel’s coffee shop for pancakes, bacon, and orange juice. He looked out over the lake, and then got on his Harley. He didn’t look back.

Stupidity

They were on a snack break, everyone having done chores and eaten breakfast, or vice versa., except for Alo, Alicia, Elu, and Yanaba, who had gone to work with Tito for the day. Henry ran the GED classes on the Pomodoro method, so they had four rounds of two, twenty-five-minute classes, with ten minutes in between. So, they had a thirty-minute break, where everyone ran around grabbing snacks and sodas, and played video games at the table. Jacy and Yas were having a “fuck you” conversation, with them saying, “Fuck you!” to each other.

Ajai gave them a little glare; they settled down and fought in their video game. She kept an eye on Tam and Nico; they were finally eating healthy snacks, apples and nuts. They actually spoke occasionally, too, and their bruises were gone.

Nantan heard shouting outside, and he stood up. He looked out the glass surrounding the front door, and he held his hands at his side. He touched his ring finger to his thumb, first on one hand, then the other.

Tam and Nico went wide-eyed, stood, and ran out the back door. What the fuck?” asked Yas.

Ajai shushed him with a glare, and hurried to the sports box as Nantan opened the door and stepped out. She grabbed two baseball bats. “Willow and Ruby, follow the boys. Guard the door.” She took out two more.

Willow rushed to her, and took it. “The rest of you, go upstairs.” Ajai pulled out her phone, and, one-handed, typed a 911 and sent it to Henry.

She sent a second 911 to her mothers, Herja and Rota, replying to one they sent. She didn’t know that both Wraith and Ivy were CC’d on it; it had been about a Valkyrie’s picnic.

She nodded to Yoki, who nodded back. They stepped out on the porch, bats in hand. The arguing boys finally realized that the girls were deadly serious about something, and they looked out the window. There was a man that looked like a wider, meaner version of Nantan, standing at the bottom of the steps and screaming. He was glaring at Nantan and waving his fists, and swaying a little. He looked either drunk or high.

“Oh, shit,” said Jacy. He pulled out his cell, and called David. “Get over to our house!” he shouted. “Really big angry guy going after Nantan.”

“You stay put,” said David, who grabbed the gun out of the locked case in the living room.

Henry already had the pump-action shotgun off from over the door, and was loading shells.

“Sister,” he said, “Turn off the ovens and whatnot and get you and Sofia upstairs. Bella’s gone. Guard Inola and the baby.”

“I’ve got them,” said David, as the lock opened. He filled the rifle with bullets.

“Love you,” said Henry, and he was running out the door with the shotgun.

Ivy was walking out to go to work when she got the text, and so she texted Henry. There was no reply, so she sent a text to Ace to open without her, who sent a 911 to Gregory and Tito, and went full throttle toward the farm.

Wraith was typing up a report on one screen, and researching a nasty little gang of meth head thieves with the other. They’d killed their first cop, and the hounds of Hell were after them. Her phone beeped, and she saw the 911 from Ajai. She grabbed her jacket and was on her bike before she realized she was moving.

Rota had much the same reaction; she was at the new house doing demo with Tito and the kids. Tito got the same text, and told the kids to literally drop what they were doing, and get in the fucking van, now. He barely remembered to lock up behind him.

Herja finished teaching a karate class for the police department. She watched them leave, in various shades of red and pink, depending on how many times she’d thrown them, or had them in locks. Her cell phone shook, and she opened it, thinking Rota was inviting her to dinner or out. She saw the 911, and she ran out like a bat out of hell.

“Iron Knight to me!” she yelled.

“I’m off duty,” said Thrasher, running with her.

“Henry’s farm. 911. My daughter.”

“Fuck,” he said. They put on their helmets, and Thrasher had a police bike, so he opened up with the siren, and they rode like the wind.

Nantan kept his hands by his side. The man in front of him was rock-solid. His nose had been broken several times. He was screaming in a mix of Sioux, English, and Spanish, and he kept changing speeds, from fast to slow and fast again. His pupils were dilated, and he sometimes slurred his words.

Nantan knew who he was the minute he saw the man, and that he was looking at the boys’ father. Henry had gotten his hands on the police reports. Bodaway was not allowed to be within a thousand feet of his wife, who was dying in the hospital in a coma from her injuries. Or his kids, multiple bars, two bosses, and three ex-wives. The boys were too traumatized to see their mother, who looked nothing like the woman they knew, with the side of her face bashed in. There were no other relatives to take the boys.

Bodaway should have been in the process of being convicted of his wife’s murder; he was definitely facing charges of assault with a deadly weapon. He’d taken a baseball bat to his wife after she’d finally gotten a backbone and attempted to stop him from beating the kids with his fists. He’d lost a fight that night at a bar, and had gone home to “win” a fight, by beating up his wife and children.

Nantan parsed enough of the mess the man was yelling to realize he was demanding to see his children.

Who was a stupid enough judge to let this guy out? How did he find this place? Nantan thought.

Their location should have been blacked out in court documents. The tribal elders were the only ones who should have been aware of where the boys were.

“Stop,” he said in Sioux. “Why are you here?”

The man stepped forward, his face getting stonier. “Do you have a brain of stone? You stole my sons!” he screamed.

Behind him, Nantan heard the door open. He saw Ajai out of the corner of one eye, Yoki out of the corner of the other. Both girls were armed with baseball bats. He knew Ajai had been learning from her mother Herja, and that Yoki had played baseball for the past seven years. He actually thought of how to get out of the way if either girl started swinging. He would probably lose a kneecap.

“I stole nothing and no one,” said Nantan.

“You were seen! They got into your van! You are some sort of sick monster!”

The word “pedophile” was an English one, but Nantan knew perfectly well what the man meant.

“I do not harm people,” said Nantan. “I grow plants.”

“Who are these? Your wives?” Bodaway said, swinging his arms. He was building himself up for a fight.

Some people are too mean and stupid to go on, Nantan thought.

“I am Sioux,” he said. “Not a monster.”

Jeffrey came flying up on the big stallion, with a harness but bareback. He reined the horse in behind Bodaway. Bodaway was too stupid to realize that Jeffrey could have let the horse land, feet first, on his head.

“You good?” asked Jeffrey.

“So far,” said Nantan, switching to English.

“You fucking moron,” said Bodaway, swinging an arm at the horse. Jeffrey backed the horse up perfectly.

“I think you may be referring to yourself,” said Henry, riding up on the gorgeous gray mare. Smoke, they had rescued and was training to jump, bareback, with no reins.

Henry held a shotgun loosely in his hands. He let go of the reins, and the horse stood, patiently. He racked the shotgun, an unmistakable sound.

“You are not wanted here. You will leave now.”

“Fuck you,” said Bodaway. stalking towards Nantan.

Nantan held out his hands. He preferred no fighting to fighting. He also didn’t want Henry to have to fill out paperwork, or explain to the boys how their father had died on his doorstep.

“You will stop,” said Nantan, in Sioux. “You will leave this place.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” asked Bodaway, stepping forward.

The girls readied their bats. “He said to leave,” said Ajai. “I am not Sioux, but even I understand his words,” she said, in English. “You are the fool that drinks and injects the money into his veins and wonders why it is gone. That tries to harm others, and wonders why he has no friends. That steals and lies, and wonders why no one trusts him. That destroys a family, and wonders why they are gone. That kills, and wonders why he is in prison. Leave this place, and never return.”

Valkyrie, thought Nantan and Henry, simultaneously.

“Fucking bitch,” said Bodaway. “Tear your fucking arms off and beat you with them.”

“You threatened a child,” said Nantan. “Who does that?”

“Child?” asked Bodaway, genuinely confused.

“This person is sixteen,” said Nantan. “You threatened a female who is sixteen.”

“She...” Bodaway swayed.

“Go,” said Nantan. “I do not care if you drink, or smoke, or do drugs. You can be an asshole somewhere else.”

“Fuck you,” said Bodaway. “Worthless,” he said in Sioux.

“Even I understand what you said,” said Ajai. “It is you who are worthless.”

Bodaway took two steps forward, but he hadn’t seen the boys. They had filled balloons with a mixture of water and dish soap. They opened the window just above the porch. They had to be careful not to strike the roof or the horses. They knew, instinctively, that Henry would kill them if they spooked a horse. So, they both crept out onto the roof. Then, they let fly.

The first water bomb hit Bodaway in the face. The second hit him in the shoulder. He gasped, breathed in water, and choked. Henry looked up, gave a thumbs-up, and specified with a finger. Jacy threw one more, and it hit Bodaway in the legs. The green soap stained his jeans.

“What the fuck!” he said, screaming. He charged, but he had been blinded by the soap.

Nantan held out both hands, and the enraged Bodaway ran up the stairs right into Nantan’s iron grip on his shoulders. Ajai held the bat on the handle farther up, and poked him in the stomach. He attempted to double over, but Nantan’s iron grip held him. Ajai moved her hand back up the grip of the bat, and swung a golf swing in between his legs, holding back. She didn’t want to maim him, just prevent him from fighting. Nantan let him go, and Bodaway doubled over, mewling.

Inola came up on another horse. “Stupid men, forgot the rope,” she said, and lassoed Bodaway. She went up the line right between them. Jeffrey backed up, and Inola tied the rope to her saddle.

Henry kept the gun at his side. “Wrap him up,” he said. “The police will love seeing him.”

Inola jerked, and Bodaway fell over on his side. Inola hopped off the horse. Henry looked up, and motioned for the boys to get back in the house. They helped each other back in the window. Ajai and Nantan walked down the stairs. Henry pointed the gun at the ground as Inola expertly hog-tied him. Bodaway tried to take a swing at Inola, although he could only move his arms up to the elbows.

Ajai handed the bat to Nantan, and expertly grabbed the hand and twisted it in a way that made Bodaway howl.

“Thanks, girlfriend,” said Inola, and she finished hog-tying him.

“Jeffrey,” said Henry, “Text an all-clear to David.” The young man took out his cell and sent the code.

Henry had no idea that Ajai had sent her own 911, and Ajai was too busy pulling back her baseball bat, considering cracking it against Bodaway’s head as he spewed a stream of curse words and invective in three languages.

The dual sounds of the police siren and the Harleys were unmistakable. “Who called the police?” asked Henry.

Ajai recalled her 911 text. “My moms did,” she said.

Herja and Thrasher came running from the parking lot, Herja’s hair streaming out behind her. She took in the horses, Henry’s gun, the baseball bat in her daughter’s hand, Inola’s rope, and the hog-tied man. She motioned for Thrasher to stand down. He figured out the same thing, so he took his hand off the butt of his gun.

“What have we here?” Thrasher said as they arrived at the porch, after stopping to draw breath.

Herja looked at her daughter standing over the man, baseball bat in hand. She smiled with fierce pride. “My daughter, are you well?” she asked, coming to a stop near the horses so as not to spook them.

“I am well,” said Ajai. “This man threatened me, called Nantan nasty things, threatened me, and tried to assault me and Nantan.”

“Assault on a minor,” said Thrasher, advancing with his cuffs.

“Trespassing, attempted murder that will be murder when his wife passes away, and violating restraining orders,” said Nantan.

“Violating court orders,” said Henry. “He wasn’t supposed to have any idea about us.”

The other Harleys were right behind, Rota running all-out to get to her daughter, and Ivy content to watch Thrasher leading away a cursing man. Ivy saw the collision when Rota hugged Ajai. Wraith came up, took in the scene, took off her helmet, and went at a more sedate pace towards Ajai and her mothers.

Ivy went into the main house, and smiled at David, who was watching from the front porch, gun in hand. “You can put that away,” she said.

“What? Oh,” he said, and he broke the gun and took out the bullets. “Thanks,” he said.

“They did good,” said Ivy. “You got any Coke?”

“Yes,” said David, “but you are not supposed to be drinking it.”

“It’s either that or the booze, and one is less bad for me than the other.”

“Hiding behind the pies,” said David.

“We have pie?” asked Ivy.

“Good God, woman,” said David. “A man comes to steal our children, and you want to drink Coke and eat pie?”

“Bad guy is in custody. Two girls on the porch with baseball bats, so if he miraculously gets out of the cuffs, he’s in for a beatdown. Jeffrey has that huge monster horse, and Henry still has a shotgun. I think we’re safe. What kind of pie?”

“Apple, and a peanut butter pie.”

“Good god,’ said Ivy. “Now I can get the year off my life that the kid gave me (sending me a 911), back.”

“Smart kid,” said David. “Cut me a piece, too.”

“Will do,” she said.

Tito arrived then with the van, kids spilling out. He took in the man in cuffs, and Jeffrey walking the stallion back to the barn. Nantan quietly talked to Henry with a gun, and Herja, Rota, and Wraith talked to Ajai.

Nantan waited until Bodaway was off in the parking lot until he said, quietly, “I have to tell the boys they are okay, without showing where they are.”

“Go,” said Henry, breaking the gun and turning the horse back to the paddock.

Nantan walked through the house, to the back, and walked out the back door. He walked over to the hydroponics house, then went in and climbed the stairs.

He found two girls with baseball bats guarding the door. “He’s gone,” he said. “Good job.”

They nodded at him. Willow said, “We’re Valkyries. What do you expect?”

“Go help your sister,” he said, nodding. They nodded back, and went back to the main house to help Ajai.

Nantan knocked on the door. “He’s gone, or he will be once the cop car shows up,” he said. “Stay in here until he is gone, about half an hour. He committed a lot of crimes today, so he’s going down. I know you’ve heard that before, but judges here know the Nighthawks and Valkyries, and Iron Knights.”

“’Kay,” said Nico.

“Will you stay with us?” asked Tam.

“Absolutely,” said Nantan. “Come on, let’s do some laundry.”

“Laundry?” said the puzzled Nico.

“The task that never ends. He started singing “The Never-ending Song” and they took their hamper down the stairs. They knew how to separate whites from darks, and Tam separated while Nico loaded. Nico put in soap and fabric softener and turned on the washer while Tam checked the dryer.

“Nada,” said Tam. “Nyet, aniyo, nothing.”

“Okay, do you want this twenty minutes to be picking strawberries or the math module?”

“Strawberries first,” said Tam.”

“Let’s go,” said Nico.

More officers showed up. Jeffrey gave his statement, and Henry sent him with the broken shotgun, minus the shells, back to the house after the officers determined that it had not been fired. Henry gave his statement, then rode the horse around the property to give it some exercise.

Inola gave her statement, and rode her horse with Henry, enjoying the day, before swollen breasts reminded her to go back and feed the baby. Yoki gave her statement, turned over her unused bat, and went to go pick fruit as well. Ivy didn’t give a statement, and went to work after stealing a piece of both the apple and the peanut butter pies, and she drank a “forbidden Coke.”

Nantan finished his statement, then went in to circulate between the picking, and lessons on tablets the teens took draped over beanbags in the living room, or at the kitchen table if they wanted to take notes or do exercises. The Pomodoro buzzer sounded and the students rushed to do short chores —changing over the laundry, vacuuming, dusting a room, or setting the kitchen table for the next meal —before resuming studying. The pickers traded with the studying students, and the studying students went to slice the fruits and veggies and put them in the containers.

Henry came back from his ride, and circulated among all the students to check their progress and ask if they had any questions before he headed off with Jake to the homeschool at the Nighthawks club. Vu came over for extended reading time, and helped the students choose books from the required extended reading list.

The teens argued over what they would do with the part of their salary they were allowed to spend —most of it went into a savings account, with the video game contingent louder than the car or motorcycle contingent. Some were savers, and some spenders, and Nantan and Henry couldn’t budge the spenders too much. They showed them how to get video games for free online, or to pay ten dollars a month for the service; but some wanted the expensive gaming machine and games anyway.

Nico and Tam were given as normal a day as possible after their father’s raging visit. The social worker, Clarissa Rodriguez from the res, came by during a Pomodoro break with the counselor, Ava. They all took horses out for a ride along the trails, giving the boys time to breathe while they related the stories. Clarissa was impressed as hell with the other students blocking their door with baseball bats.

Ava decided to talk to Ajai, but then discarded the idea. The girl had two mothers, to protect her —but she seemed hell-bent on protecting herself. Ava laughed to herself, as she watched the boys settle into the ride, steady on the horses despite their fright. Nantan was a good horseman, and he’d taught them well. Ajai’s speech, as had been described it to her, showed an insight far past her years. Valkyrie, she thought.

Wraith had a vested interest in finding out just what was going on with Bodaway Teton. She checked with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department about the man. She heard nothing for a few hours, settling in to bang out the paperwork about the incident. Thrasher had made the arrest and Wraith was determined not to interfere …yet.

Thrasher told him that the man had received medical attention —no permanent damage, just bruising, and had blood tests. He was questioned, but simply ranted in Sioux, English, and Spanish. The LVMPD dutifully recorded all his statements, and asked various officers to help translate. He was charged with trespassing, violating two restraining orders, and assaulting a minor. The fact that the minor didn’t have a scratch on her was immaterial. He had both threatened the life of a minor and attacked her.

“Keep me posted on the arraignment?” asked Wraith.

“Will do,” said Thrasher. “I get any points with Herja?”

“You literally dropped everything to help her go save her child,” said Wraith. “I call points, but not about her going easy on you in the practice room. She may actually go harder on you because she sees potential in you.”

“Potential in me?” said Thrasher.

“Yeah, as in you don’t suck, and you can get a lot better than what you are now.” Wraith thought of her own training sessions with Herja, and winced.

“I’ll get better,” said Thrasher.

“See that you do,” said Wraith. “Or she may kill you in training.” Thrasher laughed ruefully, and hung up.

The arraignment was held, and Bodaway was held without bail as there were pending murder charges in Arizona. His wife had died. The Nighthawks took a ride to pick up her ashes and take them to Lake Havasu for the ceremony. The boys seemed shell-shocked. They had few good memories of their mother; she was poor, uneducated, and believed she was “sinful” and therefore deserved the beatings her husband gave her. It never occurred to her to protect her sons from his rage, until that last fatal night. Ivy and Wraith talked of her courage in standing up to Bodaway and protecting her sons. The boys then, for the first time, cried, not at the ceremony, but that night in the tent.

They went back to get anything the boys wanted from the house, but it looked as if every single piece of furniture had been smashed, the boys’ things scattered, torn, and broken, and blood still on the floor. Henry kept them outside as Ivy and Wraith went in, and came out fuming.

The house was sold for next to nothing, as it was sagging, with peeling paint and holes in the roof. The house was razed by the new owner, who wanted a log cabin she could build herself. The money was put aside for the boys’ education. Nantan finished his parenting classes, and as he’d already been investigated because of the school, he got custody of Nico and Tam while the father’s rights were severed.

Herja and Rota bragged about their daughter to the Valkyries. It was decided that Ajai was ready to begin more advanced training; they had been holding off until her eighteenth birthday. Ajai was pulled out of Henry’s farm for a few hours or days at a time. She brought her school laptop with her. She was trained in fighting skills, aikido to begin with, then sword, knife, staff, and spear training. Her archery was so accurate so early, that Henry set up hay bales with targets on them behind the hydroponics farm to shoot. While walking, running, and on horseback. They also trained her how to use a rifle and a handgun.

David and Henry took the students out with Native guides hiking and rock-climbing, so that part was covered. As her body got hard and strong, the other students clamored for the training. The girls went with the Valkyries, and some of the boys learned aikido. Others preferred their video game time.

The winter winds came, frigid off the mountains. Everyone wore leather jackets and gloves. Rides grew less frequent, as the wind gusts made long rides dangerous, especially through the mountain passes. They rode to California before the winds got too bad, and spent a lovely few days wandering from Santa Monica to Venice Beach in Los Angeles, before heading down the Pacific Coast Highway to Long Beach. The Valkyries came, so the female teens rode behind them, and the males rode with the Nighthawks.

The teens took surfing lessons, and they ate fantastic seafood and shopped. They sent boxes of art posters home; the teens finally found something they could spend their money on that wouldn’t break the bank. They built huge sandcastles and drank sodas on rented chairs. Then, they took the Pacific Coast Highway to San Diego. They hit up Balboa Park, Old Town, and Point Loma. They found a campground and went out to pick up huge bags full of Mexican food to eat on park benches, overlooking the ocean. They drank sodas and played soccer and threw Frisbees. They got into a game of tag football, then found a field and had their own kickball game with a soccer ball. Tam and Nico began to laugh again, even fight over who got to ride with whom.

They rode back up the Pacific Coast Highway to Redondo Beach, where they learned to surf again and eat more seafood. They hit Griffith Park Observatory late in the day, so they wandered the park and caught a planetarium show, then went out to watch the stars through the telescope. They rode out to the high desert, and ate a late meal at a burger joint. They got home late, went to bed, and slept in the next morning. Inola had animal-feeding duty, and she was up early already, after she fed her own child.

The day after the trip, they did laundry and picked veggies, but classes were suspended. They rode horses and shot arrows and walked trails. Nantan brought the veggies into the cutting room, and he, Henry, and Vi prepared the delivery orders. Nantan and Henry filled up the truck, and Nantan and Henry did the deliveries.

They made it back in time for a lunch of grilled chicken, cheese, and mushroom sandwiches, with home fries, and various juices and sodas. The teens became completely inert, barely making it over to the house to get their tablets; they laid around on the beanbags. Nantan played Uno with some of them.

They were eating a snack of veggie and corn chips and salsas when the police car drove up. They walked straight to the student dorms, hands on their guns. Jeffrey saw them, and sent a 911 to Henry and Wraith. This wasn’t normal, and he knew it. He got on the horse, and jumped her clean over the fence to the officers. He rode up as they were pounding on the door.

Ajai opened the door. “May I help you?” she asked. They shouldered past her. Infuriated, she pulled out a phone and sent a 911 text to Wraith and Herja.

Nantan stood. “Did anyone give you permission to enter?” he asked. “What seems to be the trouble, officers?” he said.

He didn’t know either of them. One was dark-haired and short, with obvious lifts in his shoes, with the name tag, “Fuller.” The other was tall and blonde, with a pock-marked face, with the nameplate that said, “Dalca.”

Fuller pulled out a gun and pointed it at Nantan. “Freeze! You are under arrest,” he said.

“On what charge?” asked Nantan.

“The murder of Bodaway Teton,” said Dalca.