Leslie Silko - The Almanac of the Dead

Trigg had told Leah the trouble had started when the surgical team had transplanted the wrong lungs and heart in a patient who had later died. Trigg said his partners had come begging and pleading first; then they had gotten nasty. They had wanted to shift liability for the error to Bio-Materials, Inc.; after the court judgment, they would declare bankruptcy and form a new corporation. Trigg had refused. The police were looking for motives; here were some motives. With Trigg out of the way, the surgeons could fix the blame any way they wanted; they could testify the lungs and heart had arrived from Bio-Materials incorrectly labeled. Of course Leah had understood later when she learned the police detectives had not questioned the “silent partners.” After all, except for fat farms and tennis resorts, Tucson’s only booming business these days was human organ transplants. Tucson police had wisely concluded Trigg had been killed by two homeless men, a black and a white man who had both worked for Trigg as night watchmen.

Leah had thought she might cry for Eddie Trigg later; the loss might suddenly hit her later, in a week or two, but it never did. She didn’t cry for Eddie and she didn’t cry for Max either. How odd it had been. Suddenly they were both gone, one right after the other. Luckily Max had been struck by lightning on the golf course; otherwise, the stupid Tucson police would probably have made her a suspect in both deaths. She had to fight an impulse to laugh. The lightning had melted the putter in Max Blue’s hand on the sixteenth hole. Max’s bodyguard had cried when he told Leah Max had refused to leave the course to take shelter because he had almost finished the game. Leah had pretended to dab her eyes as she listened, but she felt relief, not loss.

Leah asked the boys and Angelo to give her some time alone; she asked Angelo to make the funeral arrangements and to notify the family. She felt restless indoors. She sat by the pool and watched the sun disappear behind the mountains. The violent thunderclouds and lightning had dispersed, leaving swirls and strands and fluffy masses of clouds to catch the colors of the sunset — silvers and golds becoming chrome-yellow, fire-orange, fire-red, fire-purple. Max had been right about one thing; the Arizona sky was spectacular. The Arizona sky would make her a billionaire.

ADIÓS, TUCSON!

STERLING HAD NEVER been the same after the time he had spent in Tucson. Loud noises such as firecrackers or gunshots or thunder sent him straight up in the air, ready to run again the way he had that afternoon the gunmen had come to the ranch. After the gunshots, Lecha’s old white Lincoln had come careening down the hill. Seese had flung open a car door so Sterling could throw in his shopping bags and suitcases. The car had still been moving as Sterling jumped in the backseat. Lecha had gunned the big engine, and they had left a big rooster’s tail of dust behind them as the Lincoln plowed down the driveway. Sterling was certain they would crash the security gate, but then he saw the gate was already open, and ahead there was something dark lying in the middle of the long driveway.

Lecha never hesitated. The big Lincoln had surged over the dead dog. Sterling had gasped and tried to look back through the car window to see which dog they had run over. Then Lecha had pointed out the other dogs. They were lying scattered near the outer security gate; their swollen tongues hung from their mouths. Lecha had slowed to look at the dead dogs. They had been shot with little silver darts. Sterling had been impressed that Lecha could remain so calm with gunfire behind her and the dead guard dogs in front of her. Seese had hidden herself crouched down in the front seat; Sterling could hear Seese crying. Lecha had not looked back. She drove eighty miles an hour all the way to the New Mexico border.

Sterling had so many questions. How had the gunmen got past the alarm devices and the TV cameras? Maybe Paulie had forgot to activate the system as he left for town. Paulie had become more and more upset. The last week, after Ferro’s friend had been killed, Paulie had drowned all but one of the pups nursing the red Doberman bitch.

Lecha talked as she drove and didn’t seem to care if anyone was listening. Seese had fallen asleep slumped low in the front seat. Sterling had been too upset at the time to follow everything Lecha had said during the trip, but later much of it had come back to him. Lecha had said it was a good time to get out of Tucson for many reasons. She had had a dream about war. She had dreamed hundreds of big green helicopters, U.S. gunships flying in low from the south over the saguaro cactus forests outside Tucson. The cargo doors of the helicopter gunships had been wide open; and inside, Lecha had seen dozens of wounded soldiers in U.S. army uniforms. Lecha said she knew the helicopters were evacuating wounded U.S. troops from Mexico. Very soon the U.S. would send troops and tanks across the border to help the white men who ran the Mexican government keep all those Indians under control. The U.S. had always feared Mexico might fail to control her Indians. Sterling didn’t know what to think about such a dream. He thought it sounded more like a nightmare. When the shooting started, women and children, the old and the sick, the innocent and the weak, would die first. For all the trouble Sterling had had with the Tribal Council, he still respected the Tribal Council and the people; because they had all met and discussed Sterling’s offenses, and they had at least let Sterling speak before they had voted to banish him.

Lecha had stopped for gasoline in Willcox. Sterling was glad to get to the men’s room. He had been careful not to drink any of the coffee in the thermos Lecha had brought along because of his aging bladder. Seese seemed exhausted; she had hardly stirred in her sleep even when the car door slammed. Out of Willcox heading for the New Mexico state line, Lecha had talked about the gunmen. Ferro had got the drop on two of the gunmen right away. Zeta had shot the third gunman through the back of the head as he had tried to flee across the patio. The gunmen were coyote food now. Lecha was taking Seese and leaving Arizona for a while as a precaution. They would return when the heat was off — Lecha had laughed at her pun. Would the heat be off for Sterling with his own people? Lecha had invited Sterling to come along. She and Seese were headed for South Dakota to the secret headquarters where Wilson Weasel Tail and the others were making preparations. Lecha wanted Sterling to join up because they could use him. Weasel Tail had plans to ally his Plains army with Mohawk forces.

Sterling had thanked Lecha for her kind offer. He told her he thought his grandnephews might let him live in the stone shack at the family sheep camp. The next time the Navajo sheepherder quit to celebrate the Navajo Tribal Fair, Sterling thought he could probably have the job. Sterling didn’t care to return to Aunt Marie’s house in Laguna village. It wasn’t the banishment order from the Tribal Council that stopped him. Sterling knew if a person stayed away for a year or so, the way he had, usually no one mentioned the banishment, unless of course there was trouble again. To return and see Aunt Marie’s empty armchair by the window would have caused Sterling too much sadness, and Sterling was not sure he could endure much more sadness.

He knew he could never again live as he had before. Aunt Marie and the other old folks used to scold Sterling when he came home from Indian boarding school to visit because he wasn’t interested in what they had to say and he wasn’t interested in what went on in the kivas. Sterling had only been interested in his magazines and listening to the radio as he did at boarding school. Sterling had never been disrespectful of the old folks’ beliefs, he just had not cared either way about religion. This indifference had been used against Sterling during the banishment proceedings of the Tribal Council. Before, it seemed Sterling had not known enough and had not caught on fast enough, and that had got him in deep trouble with the Tribal Council over the movie crew. But now, after Tucson with all the violence and death, after everything Lecha had revealed, Sterling felt as if he knew too much, and he would never be able to enjoy his life again.