Sherman Alexie - The Toughest Indian in the World

“Paul will be asleep when Jesus comes back,” said the stepfather. We both knew my son (our son?) and kept his secrets; we both loved him. What is an Indian? Is it a man who can share his son and his wife? I asked myself this: Would I take them back, would I break this good man’s heart, destroy his life, if I could be married again to this woman, if I could wake up every morning in the same house with this child?

Of course, of course I would break this white man’s heart. I would leave him alone in a cold house with an empty bank account and a one-bullet pistol in his hand.

“Merry Christmas,” said the stepfather.

“Yes,” I said and turned to leave, but the stepfather stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. Then he hugged me (Tightly! Chest to chest! Belly to belly!) and I hugged him back.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” he said. “I know it could be otherwise.”

I didn’t know what to say.

The stepfather held me at arm’s length. His eyes were blue.

“You’re a good man,” he said to me.

South of Tecate, California, the van broke down. Then, five minutes later, north of Tecate, Mexico, my father’s wheelchair broke down.

We stood (I was the only one standing!) on the hot pavement in the bright sun.

“We almost made it,” said my father.

“Somebody will pick us up,” I said.

“Would you pick us up?”

“Two brown guys, one in a wheelchair? I think the immigration cops might be picking us up.”

“Well, then, maybe they’ll think we’re illegal aliens and deport us.”

“That would be one hell of an ironic way to get into Mexico.”

I wanted to ask my father about his regrets. I wanted to ask him what was the worst thing he’d ever done. His greatest sin. I wanted to ask him if there was any reason why the Catholic Church would consider him for sainthood. I wanted to open up his dictionary and find the definitions for faith, hope, goodness, sadness, tomato, son, mother, husband, virginity, Jesus, wood, sacrifice, pain, foot, wife, thumb, hand, bread, and sex.

“Do you believe in God?” I asked my father.

“God has lots of potential,” he said.

“When you pray,” I asked him. “What do you pray about?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said.

We laughed. We waited for hours for somebody to help us. What is an Indian? I lifted my father and carried him across every border.