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They didn t call him Bust-ass Bryan on his last job for nothing.
 One day, boy, I swear. You ll get a big house. A big yard, too. He raised the glass in promise then
took a gulp.
Wolf lifted an eyebrow then let it slowly sink back down. His eyes closed. The run earlier had been
good for both of them. After today s frustrations a little more envy over Gary s luxurious lifestyle and a
lot of temptation exercise was a good way to ease into evening and prepare him for what was left of the
day.
When the juice was gone, Bryan picked up the phone. He had to make the call to his grandparents
he d been putting off all week. If he couldn t get around to making a visit, the least he could do was check
in now and then. But lately bad news was all he ever got on the other end of the line, and it made it harder
to dial the number. After several rings, his grandmother finally picked up.
 Yá'át'ééh, shimá sání.
Laura Bacchi and Bonnie Dee
She returned the greeting but there was a weariness to her tone, more so than usual. In the
background, he could hear his grandfather coughing.
 How is he? asked Bryan.
 All the better for you calling. Let me see if he can talk.
There was a rustling of sheets and a hacking cough that echoed through the phone as Bryan pictured
his grandfather trying to sit up in the small bed. Few words were spoken, but each that left Bryan s lips
burdened his heart with guilt.
 After this job, I ll take a break. I ll come back, he promised.
 Your voice is enough, Grandson.
The words in Diné soothed him, their cadence matching the painful rhythm of his heart. But when his
grandmother came back on the line, her words confirmed the worst.
 Soon, Bryan. Soon, she said quietly.
Bryan closed his eyes.  What happened to fifty-fifty? I liked those odds.
Grandpa Butch had liked them, too, keeping up with treatment when most Navajo would ve given up.
They didn t call cancer  the sore that never heals for nothing. Obviously this round of pneumonia had
changed those numbers.
 The new wood stove is good. His breathing has seemed easier.
 I m glad. I just wish you d gone to propane like I 
 Fuel s too expensive these days.
 I would ve sent the money. I m getting paid well. You wouldn t believe how well. When I come
down 
 Save the money for yourself, Bryan. Don t forget I left the Rez, too, for a while. I know how much it
costs to live where you do. We re doing fine. No lie.
He gave up the battle. On the phone he only had words, but when he came back to visit again, he d
bring them things. Maybe even help them build a new house. Nothing fancy they d have none of that.
 Did you want to ask about anyone else? she asked.
No. Not really. But like a dutiful grandson, he forced the question from his dust-dry throat.  How is
she?
 She s still here. Want to ask her yourself?
 Ask her what? If she s stealing from you? Or maybe how long she s going to stay this time? He
regretted the words, the tone, as soon as he d spoken.
 She s doing well.
 I ll believe it when it lasts longer than a month or two.
He opened his mouth to say more but his grandmother s hand covered the phone.  It s Bryan, she
called.
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Butterfly Unpinned
He should have hung up, but he waited. Like he always had.
 Hello, Bryan.
Once she said it, he couldn t flip the phone shut and cut the connection. No, cutting the connection
was her job, and one she d done with apparent ease again and again throughout his growing-up years.
 Hi, Mom. He d said it in English. To speak it in Diné would be like paying respect to her. And that
she d have to earn back.
She switched to English, too.  I heard you found a good job in California.
 Yes.
She waited for more. He didn t want to give it, but the emptiness hung between them, awkward and
pained. What do I say now? He couldn t ask about her job chances were she didn t have one. And
something like  Are you staying clean this time? wasn t exactly in the best of taste.
 It pays well, he finally said.  Gives me room to be creative.
 I m glad to hear it. I ve been making jewelry again. Making a little money, too. And keeping an eye
on Pop while Mom works the clay.
His mind flashed to an early memory of his mother sitting at the small kitchen table stringing polished
beads of turquoise and other stones into necklaces. It had been during one of her good spells, one of those
times when he thought maybe she d actually stick around. He d been hopeful and naïve then. He wasn t
now.
 That s great, he said curtly. Before she made any more attempts to convince him she was better
now, he ended the conversation.  Look, I ve gotta go. Take care of yourself.
 You, too, son. See you soon.
 Yeah. If you re there when I come.  Say good-bye to Grandma and Grandpa for me.
She promised she would. Bryan flipped the phone down slowly, holding it in his palm until he
decided to stop brooding and get something to eat. He made a sandwich, gobbled it down, and fired up the
computer again. This time it hooked right up.
 Here we go.
Bryan glanced over to Wolf, who still lay in his favorite spot in the middle of the floor. He was [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]