CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE SHADES OF GREY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SHADES OF GREY
"Sometimes doing the right thing
means choosing the lesser wrong."Jay Matoskah
2:00 PM
June 19th
Pine Ridge Reservation
Greyeagle pulled his classic 1969 Dodge Charger down a long gravel driveway that was overgrown with brush and trees.
It felt more like a tunnel than a road. Even calling it a road was something of a misnomer.
It was more like two trails with a strip of grass growing up in the middle, with as many ruts and potholes as it did smooth patches.
The big-block 440 cubic-inch engine rumbled, and they could hear the thunk of clumps of grass and the occasional rock against the undercarriage. Greyeagle cringed as he felt a large rock scrape against the metal.
“I told you we should’ve brought the bikes,” Kade said, smiling at his brother.
“Then we couldn’t have brought grandfather,” Greyeagle pointed out.
“Yes, I do not like riding those infernal machines of yours,” Jay said, smiling.
“You should try it, grandfather,” Kade said. “Closest thing you’re gonna get to riding a wild mustang across the prairie with the wind in your hair.”
“I doubt that,” Jay replied. “I have ridden wild mustangs across the prairie and felt the wind in my hair. When all of this land belonged to us, and there was nothing but bison for miles.”
“I wish I could’ve seen that,” Kade said.
“It was glorious,” Jay said.
“Are you certain this is the right road?” asked Greyeagle. “There’s no way we can turn around.”
“This is the right road,” Jay assured him. “Can’t you feel it?”
Greyeagle frowned and nodded.
“All I feel is a spring poking me in the ass,” Kade said. “Brother, you really need to reupholster these seats.”
Greyeagle started to reply when a large coyote ran out in front of the car. It stopped long enough that Greyeagle had to slam on the brakes. It made eye contact with them all, then vanished back into the brush.
“Yeah, that’s not odd or anything,” Kade said.
“She knows we’re here,” Jay replied.
“Yeah, because she can hear this old beast from a mile away,” Kade said. “You don’t sneak up on people in a big block Charger.”
“Stealth was never our intention,” Jay said.
“Good, because this car is about as subtle as a thunderstorm,” Kade replied, grinning.
“Never said she was subtle,” Greyeagle answered. “I said she was fast.”
Up ahead, the trees began thinning out, and they could see signs of a house.
They caught part of the front porch through the trees, along with numerous old, broken-down cars.
As they emerged from the trees, they saw an old cabin with a full front porch.
Close by was a smaller building, built low to the ground with an earthen roof.
Greyeagle recognized it immediately as a permanent sweat lodge.
Around the area were almost a dozen vehicles that had thick grass growing up around them. Clearly, they’d been there for a while. Greyeagle recognized several as being far older than the Charger, possibly from the 1940s or 50s.
“Look at all these old junkers,” Kade said. “I wonder why they keep this crap? I’d sell them for scrap.”
A woman stepped out of the cabin, cradling a shotgun in her arms.
“I take it that’s Rose Winter Crow,” Greyeagle said.
Rose Winter Crow was a small woman who looked to be somewhere in her seventies.
Silver-white hair hung in a single braid over one shoulder, secured with a strip of faded red cloth and adorned with a few crow feathers and old bone beads polished smooth by decades of handling.
Her face was lined with age, but there was nothing frail about her.
She stood straight, moved with quiet purpose, and carried herself with the confidence of someone accustomed to being obeyed.
She wore a faded denim skirt, well-worn moccasins, and a dark shawl despite the summer heat. Nothing about her appearance was dramatic. At a glance, she could have been anybody’s grandmother. It was only when she looked at you that the illusion vanished.
Her eyes were dark enough to appear almost black.
They were clear, sharp, and entirely too old.
Kade had spent years around predators, medicine people, warriors, and things far older than humans.
None of them quite unsettled him the way Rose Winter Crow did.
It wasn't fear. It was the uncomfortable feeling that she already knew things about him that he had never spoken aloud.
She looked older than Sarah, younger than Jay, and somehow older than both of them at the same time.
Behind her, hanging from the edge of the porch, was a windchime made from antlers.
She didn’t aim the shotgun at them, but she didn’t put it down either.
It wasn’t quite a threat, but it certainly wasn’t welcoming.
Greyeagle stopped the car and climbed out. Kade got out next and helped Jay out of the back seat. Once they were all standing, Rose frowned and slowly turned her head, taking them all in. Greyeagle felt like she was looking into his soul.
“Ah, the White Bear finally decides to visit my home,” Rose said, her voice soft and raspy. “To what do I owe this dubious honor, old man?”
“I thought it was time we spoke,” Jay said, nodding slightly. “Allow me to introduce…”
“I know who they are,” she said, cutting him off. “William Greyeagle and Kade Black Thorn. You are not the only one with the gift of sight. What do you want?”
“I want to ask you about the Ma’êstse-hóhkeso,” said Jay.
“I figured you might,” she replied. “Are you telling me the great Jay Matoskah does not know something?”
“I have seen many things in my long years,” Jay said, “but still stand in awe of the sunrise. Living is learning, and I wish to learn more.”
“You bring the two Alphas to my home and speak of learning?” Rose asked. “I know who they are. I know what they are. Stop wasting my time and ask your question.”
Kade rumbled low in his throat.
“Careful, boy,” Rose said softly. “I gave you the old magic. I can take it back.”
“Kade,” Greyeagle said, placing his hand on his shoulder. “We won’t get anywhere that way.”
“Listen to your brother,” Rose said. “Now, ask your questions, White Bear. I am beginning to lose my patience.”
“Did you summon the Ma’êstse-hóhkeso?” asked Jay.
“And there it is,” said Rose, smiling like she’d just won a major victory. “You have no idea how to stop them. Do you expect me to just share that knowledge with you? And why should I? If I summoned them, why would I want you to stop them?”
“So, you did summon them,” Jay said.
“I never said that,” countered Rose. “Do not put words in my mouth, old man.”
“I think grandfather has met his match,” Kade whispered to Greyeagle.
Greyeagle nodded. Jay gave them both a dirty look, then turned back to Rose.
“There is no reason why we cannot be civil to one another,” Jay said. “Perhaps we should start over. We did not come here to argue or fight.”
“Besides, you’re the one with the shotgun,” Kade added.
“This,” Rose said, lifting the shotgun slightly. “A child’s toy against the Hotamétaneo’o and Makhótaneo’o. Tell me, White Bear. Which of us brought the greater threat to the other’s door?”
“My grandsons are not here to threaten you,” Jay assured her. “They are here to speak for their packs.”
“So, White Bear,” replied Rose, “are those packs waiting just down the road?”
“No,” Jay replied. “It is just the three of us.”
Rose studied him for a moment, evaluating both his words and his body language. After a moment, she stepped back and lowered the shotgun.
“I sense no deception in you, old man,” she said. “But if you wish to speak with me, leave the lap dogs outside.”
“Lap dogs?” Kade said, bristling.
“I said what I said,” said Rose. “I will put on some tea. Join me or not, but the Alphas stay outside.”
Rose turned and went into the cabin.
“Wait out here,” Jay said, then followed her inside.
Once he was out of earshot, Kade turned to Greyeagle.
“Lap dogs?” he said angrily.
“You’re right,” Greyeagle said. “That’s not fair. Only you turn into a dog. I’m a wolf.”
“Dick,” Kade said and shook his head.
Once inside, Jay saw the cabin was sparsely furnished.
The furniture was old and looked handmade.
The only means of heat was a fireplace, an old potbelly wood stove that he could see in the one bedroom, and a wood-fired cookstove in the kitchen.
Despite the heat outside, the cabin was surprisingly cool.
“Take a seat, old man,” said Rose, nodding at the small kitchen table with two chairs.
Jay sat as she stirred the coals on the cookstove and added a few pieces of wood.
The kitchen sink was a basin with a hand-pumped spout, and she quickly filled an old ceramic teapot, then placed it on the stove.
Once it was on the burner, she lowered herself slowly into the chair facing Jay and leaned back.
“It will take a minute to boil,” she said. “I’m not one for small talk. What do you want, White Bear? We have both lived on this Rez for more than a century, yet this is the first time you have ever sought me out.”
“I already asked my question,” Jay countered.
“Ah, yes,” she said, not quite smiling. “The Ma’êstse-hóhkeso.”
Jay nodded once but didn’t reply.
“You wanted to know if I summoned them,” she said, her eyes evaluating Jay. “The Ma’êstse-hóhkeso were here long before the Lakota, and they will be here long after we are gone.”
“That is still not an answer,” Jay said.
“No,” she said softly. “It is not.”
The silence hung heavily in the room. Rose sat serenely while Jay watched her closely, studying both her expression and her body language. Neither of them moved or spoke, and time stretched with thick tension in the air. After a while, the teapot began to whistle.
“Ah, teatime,” Rose said, then got up and retrieved the pot.
She placed it on a thick pad on the table, then brought out two handmade clay mugs, placing one in front of Jay and the other by her own seat. She opened a cabinet and took out two small cloth bags tied off, each about the size of a quarter. Then she dropped one in each cup to steep.