The Devil's Paintbox, page 22
Tupic seemed exhausted from telling so much.
“Why did they put you in jail?” Aiden asked.
“They said Indians plan raids. I told that we only want to buy the vaccine. But they keep us prisoner. Every day they asked us questions about Indian plan. We do not know the tribes near Seattle, I told them. They are Salish and Yakima, we are Nez Perce. But they tied us up and beat us. They said all the Indians will join together to raid and kill.
“Days passed, and Silent Wolf was very angry. He said we cannot trust white men, to remember Sand Creek. I thought of Sand Creek, but also of the missionaries at my school. I know the bad soldiers and bad people in your wagon train, the man named Buck, the ones who looked evil at us, but also, I know many are good: you and your sister and Mr. Jackson.” Tupic paused. “Excuse me, for I do not ask of them. They are all well?”
Aiden hesitated. “Yes,” he lied.
“I am glad for that.” Tupic went on, “I told Silent Wolf the jail men will not kill us. I know the Constitution of Thomas Jefferson and the Bible of Jesus. We have done nothing wrong. I asked to send a letter to Mr. Jackson. But weeks passed and we were still in the jail. When they talked to us we were always tied on the chair. Then one day the man put a rope on my neck. He said Indians attacked a farm and killed the family. They said to Silent Wolf they will hang me if he does not tell of the Indian plan. But we don't know any plan. When the guard comes near, Silent Wolf kicked him hard so he fell. Then Silent Wolf smashed him with his head and with the chair still tied on him. The chair crushed the guard's throat. Then more men came in and killed Silent Wolf with sticks.”
Tupic looked up at the barn rafters. Outside, there was a roar of noise from the fights. “I tried to think of something to tell them—but no plan made sense. Why would we come so far from our homeland—ask to buy vaccine—if we wanted to hurt the white people? What plan do we have?”
Aiden felt his heart beating so hard he wondered if the Bull really had smashed it.
“I am sorry” Aiden said. Tupic only nodded. Aiden saw him trembling and thought he might be about to cry. He gave his friend some time to recover. Tupic took another drink of the coffee and Aiden saw that two teeth had been knocked out from one side of his mouth.
“At the time of your New Year,” Tupic finally continued, “four days ago, many people were in the jail. They were drunk and fighting. I took the belt from one. He was drunk asleep. I rubbed the buckle on the stones to make it sharp and I cut off my hair. Then I changed his clothes with mine. The jail police also drink all night. When they let all the New Year men out, I went out with them.”
Aiden heard the gong sound for a new fight. His mind was spinning in a dozen different directions. “How did you find me?”
“Everyone in the jail knows the camps of Napoleon Giliv-rey He pays the jailers to send him men to work. So I think this is also the place where Mr. Jackson should bring you.”
Aiden rubbed his cold hands over the bruises on his face.
“I'm glad you came to me,” he said. “I can find a place for you to stay for now and then help you get home. I have some money saved, from the fights. …”
“I do not go home,” Tupic said. He sat up straight and looked at Aiden with a steady dark gaze. “I came for the vaccine. This is my … journey. You can buy the vaccine for me. I still have the money. We buried it.”
“What do you mean? I can't buy vaccine around here.”
“In Seattle. You are white. They will sell it to you.”
“I can't.” Aiden recoiled. “I can't leave. I have to work.”
“It is a small journey.”
“They won't let me go.” Aiden looked away. It was true that Powhee would not easily let him go, but it was more true that he did not want to leave. He didn't want to go back out into the world. He didn't want to talk to anyone or figure anything out or have to make anything come out right. Hard as this life was, the hurt was clear and predictable. This pain had rules and ends. Bad was really just fine when you knew the size and shape of it.
“I can't,” he said. “I'm sorry.”
“We are friends.”
“No.”
“Is our friendship only smoke?”
“No, but it was between different people in a different life.”
Tupic stiffened and Aiden suddenly saw the same chiefly dignity of Clever Crow. “It is not our way to make something important the same as trade of fish or blankets; to make it this for that, “ Tupic said coldly. “But I am tired now, and my cousin and my uncle are dead, and all my people are in danger, so I will make it that way. We saved your life in the river. It is your duty now to repay. I must ask you this for that.”
need a week off work,” Aiden said. The fights were over, the camp quiet. Powhee was sitting alone in the cookhouse by the stove, having a last smoke before bed. He had a cot set up for his use in a corner of the room.
Powhee just laughed. “Me too, Prairie Boy.”
“I have business in Seattle.”
“Seattle? What possible business could you have there?”
“I will pay you for my days. A week for me now, after board, is ten dollars. You know I have the money.”
“One week is not ten dollars.” Powhee's tone turned sharp as he realized Aiden was serious. “For one week we pay you ten dollars, but the trees you cut bring Mr. Gilivrey much more.”
Aiden felt stupid for not thinking of this.
“How much more?”
“More than you have, or will ever have.” Powhee smiled. “So forget it.”
“Count it up,” Aiden said coldly. “Write it down. I'll work it off.”
“It will take you months.”
“Well, I'll do my best to live that long.”
“No one leaves the camps until their debt is finished.”
“I don't intend to skip out.”
“Of course not. Mr. Gilivrey would pay twice your debt to anyone who brought in your head. Your real head.” Powhee sliced a finger across his own throat. “He'd take no other proof. Rotting in a sack, pickled in a crock, even skinned, just the face, peeled off the skull, wouldn't matter as long as he could see it was you.”
“I don't intend to skip.”
“San Francisco, China, Japan, it wouldn't matter how far you went. Hawaii? I have fifty-seven cousins there.”
“I will come back in one week.”
“You are not going anywhere.”
Now Aiden chose his words carefully. “Mr. Gilivrey must be a little bit pleased with me, for I've won so much in the fights.” He took a deep breath and proceeded very cautiously. “He must enjoy his cut of the betting, after all.”
Powhee clenched his jaw and his spiral tattoos swirled in the shadowy light.
“Like everyone else in the camps,” Aiden went on. “Like the camp bosses, the men who handle the bets, the cook who sews us up, even the Chinamen who wash the blood out of our clothes. And of course, you, Mr. Powhee; how much of your percentage goes to Mr. Gilivrey anyway?”
“Do you think you are the first piss-pant to threaten me this way?” Powhee said angrily.
“No,” Aiden said. “But I think I'm the first to make you enough money to have it work.”
“Who is that Indian?”
Tupic's presence in the camp had of course been noticed, but Aiden was surprised that Powhee had connected them so quickly.
“An old friend,” Aiden replied.
“He is trouble for you.”
“I know.”
“What does he want you to do?”
“A favor.”
“And how am I supposed to explain your absence?”
Aiden hadn't thought of this. “I don't know. You are a smart man. And fearsome.”
Now Powhee's tattoos relaxed and he looked resigned, almost sullen. “If I let you go, it would be logical for me to help you accomplish your task.”
“I guess it would,” Aiden said simply. “But I'm not all that logical. We'll leave before first light. We won't be seen. I'll need some of my cash winnings for the trip, though. Twenty dollars should do.”
Powhee stared at him, then reached into his moneybag.
“You can't go through East Royal St. Petersburg,” he said. “So from camp five, go west over the Saddle ridge and follow the first creek down. It will put you on the river about a mile south of there. You can follow the river all the way to Seattle, but don't be seen, for I won't say I allowed you to leave.”
“All right.”
“Don't trust anyone for anything in Seattle,” he said. “Go to Ruby's on the docks for a room; she's clean enough, mostly fair and she pays guards to look out for the Shanghai crews. Anywhere else you go, watch your back, watch your drink—they'll slip you a knockout potion and you'll wake up on a ship to China.”
“I'll be careful.”
“Everyone knows Napoleon Gilivrey And almost everyone owes Napoleon Gilivrey. Remember that.”
“I will.” Aiden nodded and pocketed his money. “Thank you.”
Aiden felt restless when he lay down in the straw, but the long day soon caught up with him and he fell asleep quickly He still woke well before dawn, just as the darkest black began to seep from the sky. Tupic was already awake, or perhaps he had never slept. He sat up in the corner of the stall, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, rocking slightly as he chanted softly under his breath.
Aiden got unsteadily to his feet and found his kit bag. The two crept quietly out of the stable and into the thick mist. They covered the trail in good time, and it was still before sunrise when they reached camp four, but Aiden knew the cook would already be awake. He had Tupic stay in the woods while he slipped closer and waited until he saw the cook go outside to smoke his pipe. Then he snuck in and took a loaf of bread and a chunk of ham. He looked around hopefully for some of the famous meat pies, but there were none lying about.
Men were starting to rouse by the time they reached camp five, so they crept around the outskirts. The vast trunks of the trees too big to cut stood like solitary giants among the hundreds of stumps. Tree limbs, twisted and crushed by the fall of the timber, littered the ground like monster bones. But as Aiden and Tupic moved toward the ridge, the normal forest returned. The sun broke as they crested and was strong enough to warm them as they made their way down the other side. They reached the main river by midafternoon.
“Wait here,” Tupic said. It was the first either had spoken all day. “I have a canoe hidden in the brush just downriver. I borrowed it from a Salish village outside of Seattle.”
He was gone less than an hour, but to Aiden it felt like a lifetime. Every scratch and twitch in the forest set his spine tingling. His ears strained to hear voices. There shouldn't be any loggers around here, for every right-sized tree was already cut, but he still feared discovery. Finally Tupic returned, sliding the dugout silently up to the muddy bank. Aiden stepped in and the little boat rocked drastically.
“Can this thing really carry us?”
“If you don't lunge around like an elk.”
Aiden lowered himself cautiously and Tupic pushed them out into the slow current. Aiden had never been in a canoe of any sort, but the dugout felt especially tippy. Every time he paddled, the wretched boat would tilt and wrench sideways.
“Don't lean so much,” Tupic said. He sat in the back, trying hard to compensate for such a clumsy partner. “And don't stab the water.”
“I haven't paddled a lot of damn canoes!” Aiden said.
“You paddle like you're chopping down a tree.”
“Well, how should I paddle?”
“Smooth, like you are brushing your horse's neck.”
“I haven't brushed a lot of horse necks either.”
Suddenly the heaviness between them began to lighten. The afternoon was sunny and mild, the current light, and after a while Aiden did get the hang of paddling, though Tupic still had to work to keep them near a straight line. For a little while it began to feel like just a pleasant outing, two old friends off to fish and camp in the woods.
lthough he had walked alongside this same river when Jackson had first brought them to East Royal St. Petersburg, Aiden didn't remember anything of the landscape. It seemed like an eternity ago, though it was just over four months. They stopped to camp when Aiden guessed they were several miles from Seattle. Aiden knew the camp supplies had come up the river two days earlier, so there wouldn't be another of Gilivrey's boats for three days. Still, he preferred to remain hidden from the world.
They had no hooks or line for fishing, no leather or twine to make a snare and no bow and arrows for any birds or small game, so they had to be content with the last bits of bread and ham for a poor supper. It barely stopped their stomachs from growling. They did not risk a fire but made a simple lean-to for shelter, carpeting the ground with pine needles. It was a rare clear night, cold, but not unbearably so. If they kept their heads covered and huddled close beneath the one blanket, they might even sleep some. With so little to do, they lay down long before they were sleepy, poking their heads out of the lean-to so they could look at the stars through the branches overhead.
“That's the one thing I miss from the prairie,” Aiden said. “On a moonless night, the sky is just dripping with stars. It feels like you could just reach up and scoop up a handful. Toss them around, eat them, feed them to the chickens if you like.”
“What would they taste like?” Tupic laughed.
“Cold, I always thought, and a little sour.”
“I always thought sweet. Like rock candy.”
“You just like candy.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe if you floated up there and ate them directly, they'd be sweet,” Aiden agreed. “But I think everything turns sour that comes to earth.”
“In our stories, the night sky is a very busy place,” Tupic said. “There are always people being turned into stars; usually lovers who can't marry each other. Powerful shamans may become stars, and certain animals who bring gifts to the people. And warriors, of course,” he laughed. “Especially if they also have the love problem! I think anyone can be a star with a good story.”
“When I was a child,” Aiden said, “I thought the sky was a blanket, separating earth from heaven, and the stars were holes in the blanket, letting the light shine through. Whenever someone good died they poked a hole in the blanket, so finally, there would be enough holes made in the blanket that it would just crumble away, and then we would all be in heaven.”
“Is that the Bible or Aesop?”
“No,” Aiden said. “Just childish thoughts.”
“It is a long time since we were children.”
“Yes,” Aiden said. Wispy clouds filmed across the sky, blurring the stars. “I have to tell you something. When you asked about Maddy, I lied. I didn't want to talk of it then. But the truth is, she died, drowned.” He told the story in the barest of words. Tupic listened silently, then turned on his side, rustling the pine needles.
“So now there is one more hole in your blanket.”
“Yes.”
“And the Great Spirit is learning about all the countries in the Atlas of the World.”
Aiden laughed and quickly brushed the tears off his face, pretending to scratch his forehead.
“What do you think happened to Dr. Carlos?” Tupic finally asked. “It must have been terrible for him.”
“I don't know,” Aiden said coldly. “I don't care.”
He felt the chill start to creep through his clothes.
reakfast was a drink of water from the river. Then they dragged out the canoe and were paddling downriver before the morning mist had lifted.
“How far until the Salish camp?” Aiden asked.
“Maybe another mile.”
“Can I walk in by myself?”
“They are used to white men, but I will be with you.”
“No. The police in Seattle will be looking for you in every Indian village nearby.”
“They would not betray me.”
“Not one?” Aiden pressed. “What if there's a bounty on your head? You escaping out of jail is bad enough, but they're sure to put the guard's death on you too, and that's hanging. Even if no one betrayed you, if they all protected you, what if the police found out later that the Salish helped you—what would happen to them?”
Tupic was quiet, but Aiden felt him paddling extra hard.
“I will go in alone,” Aiden went on. “I'll say I found the canoe abandoned on the riverbank. I'll get food for you; then you will go to Mr. Jackson's trading post. It's on the sound, a place called Brightfish Bend, north of Seattle. You'll have to make your own way to the coast, but then there should be a trail.”
“But I have to go with you to get the money,” Tupic protested. “I can't describe where we buried it.”
“I don't need your money.”
“How will you buy the vaccine?”
“I'm not going to buy it,” Aiden said.
“What do you mean?”
“Why would someone like me need to buy smallpox vaccine? Did you think about that? Do I just walk into the general store and ask for it?”
Tupic looked surprised, then embarrassed. “You get it from a doctor.”
“Just like that?” Aiden sighed. “Do you even know what it looks like? I mean—how it comes? Is it liquid in a jug? Or in little medicine bottles? Or is it a powder?”
“I don't know,” Tupic said. Aiden knew it wasn't Tupic's fault, but he still had to fight the urge to grab him by the throat and throw him out of the canoe. Aiden was about to walk into a strange city to somehow obtain something, he didn't know what, from someone, he didn't know who, and transport it out again, he didn't know how.
“Just get yourself to Mr. Jackson's trading post and wait there.”
“What will you do?”
“Figure something out.”
They paddled in silence for a while. “Allow two days for me in Seattle,” Aiden went on, thinking aloud. “Then a day to Jackson's place.” He counted up the days and felt sick at the lack of them. “I have to get back to the logging camp by Sunday. If I can't make it to Jackson's, I'll send word.” It was a rickety little plan, but it was the only one he could come up with.
