Double eagle, p.1
Double Eagle, page 1
Dedication
For Christopher.
My favourite and, as it turns out, only brother.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
About the Author
Also by Thomas King
Copyright
About the Publisher
1
Thumps DreadfulWater and Moses Blood dozed in the shade of a large cottonwood and listened to Cooley Small Elk and Claire Merchant chase Claire’s six-year-old back and forth between the house and barn.
Thumps slipped the camera out of his jacket pocket, turned it on, set the aperture. Through the viewfinder, he watched Ivory try to turn cartwheels in the grass. The effort was there. The technique would come later.
“You could help, you know.”
Thumps looked up to find Claire standing over him.
Moses kept his eyes shut. “I think she means you.”
“I mean the both of you,” said Claire.
“I’m taking pictures,” said Thumps. “Recording the moment for posterity.”
“Don Corleone chased his grandson through his garden,” said Moses, “and look what happened to him.”
Claire folded her arms across her chest. “How you feeling?”
“The doctor says I’m getting old,” said Moses, “but this is not a surprise.”
“What’d he say about your heart?”
“Said it was congenial.”
“I think he might have said ‘congestive.’”
Moses smiled. “He cautioned me against chasing little girls in tall grass.”
Cooley came over with Ivory tucked under his arm, twisting and wriggling like an eel in a net.
“Put me down!”
Cooley looked at Claire.
“Take her into the mountains,” said Claire. “Leave her there for the wolves to eat.”
“No mountains!” shouted Ivory. “No wolves!”
Cooley tossed Ivory into the air. “I could drop her in the river.”
“Excellent idea,” said Claire.
“No river!”
“Maybe that one would like something to eat,” said Moses.
“Chocolate cake!”
“How about watermelon?”
“Watermelon and chocolate cake!”
The remnants of lunch were still on the blanket. There was no chocolate cake left, because there had been no chocolate cake to begin with, but now that Ivory had mentioned it, Thumps found himself wanting a piece as well.
“Looks like we’re out of watermelon,” said Cooley. “How about a carrot?”
“No,” said Ivory.
“Potato salad?”
“No.”
“How about I chase you some more.”
“Can’t catch me,” shouted Ivory. And off she went, racing through the grass like the wind.
Cooley stayed put and watched her go. “Gives you a new appreciation for mothers.”
“I’m going to sit here,” said Claire. “And I’m not going to move.”
Thumps followed Ivory with the rangefinder, let the autofocus do the work. It was so much faster than his field camera.
“That one is quick,” said Moses. “She will be a strong woman.”
“If I don’t kill her first,” said Claire.
Ivory came racing back, crashed into Cooley on the fly, bounced off the big man, tumbled backwards into the grass.
“Hey,” she cried out. “You’re supposed to move.”
“I’m a tree,” said Cooley. “Trees don’t move.”
“You’re not a tree.”
“I certainly am.” Cooley held out his arms. “These are my leafy branches.”
“Maybe you want Thumps to chase you,” said Claire.
“I’m hungry. I want chocolate cake.”
“Carrots,” said Claire. “And potato salad.”
“Then,” Ivory said, striking a pose, her hands on her hips. “I want a horse.”
MOSES LIVED ON fifty acres of bottomland that fronted the river. There was a small house, a barn, a chicken coop, along with a small herd of derelict trailers put out to pasture.
An oasis. Of sorts.
“Had a preacher come out one time,” said Moses. “Told me my place reminded him of the Garden of Eden.”
“There’s a strip club over in Great Falls by that name,” said Cooley. “But I’m guessing he meant the other one with the naked couple and the snake.”
“Every so often,” said Moses, “I’ll find a snake in the woodpile. But they all swear they’re not related to the one with the apple.”
“And you believe them?”
“They all sound very sincere and have honest faces.”
Thumps leaned back, closed his eyes, let his skin soak up the sun. Fall was his favourite time of the year. Warm days, cool nights. The land laid out like a painting. Greens and golds in the light. Deep blues and purples in the shadows.
And a high sky filled with clouds.
Claire sat down next to Thumps, leaned against his shoulder. “So, this is what men do.”
“I wouldn’t answer that if I were you,” said Moses.
“It wasn’t a question,” said Claire. “Mind you, I can see the appeal. Sit around all day. Watch the sky. Let someone else do the work.”
“I wouldn’t answer that one either.”
“That also wasn’t a question,” said Claire.
“No point in asking me,” said Moses. “I’m senile.”
Thumps kept his eyes closed. “Ditto.”
“You two should take your act on the road,” said Claire. “But while we’re waiting for Second City to call, maybe you could do something useful.”
“Remind your woman that I’m senile,” said Moses.
“I’m going to be at Buffalo Mountain for the next couple of nights,” said Claire.
“This about the gold show?”
Claire shook her head. “Scoop and her genome project.”
“Ah,” said Moses. “Gnomes and their gold. There was a movie on Netflix about that.”
“Genomes,” said Claire. “The Four Grandmothers’ Genome Project.”
“Had a big dragon in it.” Moses chuckled. “The gnomes try to steal the dragon’s gold, and the dragon burns down a village. It doesn’t end well.”
“Maybe we can have dinner.”
“Sure.”
“I’m too old to eat dinner,” said Moses. “I used to do that, but I don’t anymore.”
“What about Ivory?”
“You remember her uncle? Melton?”
“Sure.”
“He and his fiancée are coming to the resort. They’re going to take her for the weekend.”
“Melton getting married?”
“Her name is Ona.”
“So just the two of us.”
“My treat,” said Claire. “I could use your two cents on the repatriation of Deep House and Antelope Flats.”
“Courts have already ruled on that.”
“Three times,” said Claire. “Only now the state and their corporate friends want to do a multi-use feasibility study, want to explore the possibility of a joint conservancy with the tribe and the state managing the Flats as a protected wilderness area and explore the possibility of using Deep House as a recycling and waste management site.”
“By which they mean a public park and a dump.”
“By which,” said Claire.
“That’s not going to happen.”
Claire smiled. “You said the same thing about that idiot when he ran for president.”
Ivory started shrieking and calling for help. Cooley was dangling her over the river.
“Make sure you drop her in deep water,” shouted Claire.
“No deep water!”
“That’s why children are on the earth,” said Claire. “To ensure we appreciate the quiet of old age and death.”
“This is true,” said Moses.
“I thought you were senile,” said Claire.
“I have occasional moments of lucidity,” said Moses.
Claire turned to Thumps. “We could have dinner, talk. Might think of other things to do as well.”
Moses put his hands to his ears. “All this intimate chit-chat is embarrassing me.”
“What happened to senile?”
“No one is that senile,” said Moses. “Maybe you two should go for a wal k.”
ON THE FAR side of the river, Thumps could see a figure running across the high ground.
Scoop Macleod.
She moved quickly down the slope and out across the flat, her shadow racing ahead of her, as she turned toward the river.
“How are things working out with Scoop?” asked Thumps.
“She makes good soup,” said Moses.
“Do we know who her family might be?” said Claire.
“Not yet,” said Moses, “but my little grey cells are working on it.”
“You should grow a moustache,” said Thumps. “Get a nice homburg. A cane and pince-nez.”
Moses patted Thumps’s hand. “You could be my Captain Hastings.”
“Sure,” said Thumps. “You could solve all the mysteries, and I could stand around looking perplexed.”
“That photograph any help?” said Claire.
“Not yet,” said Moses, “but my little grey cells are working on it.”
Scoop hit the river. Thumps got several shots of her splashing across the shallows and climbing the near bank. She waved as she jogged into the yard.
“Going to get changed,” she shouted, and disappeared into the cluster of trailers.
“She’s had a tough life,” said Claire. “Don’t know that we’re going to make it any easier.”
“Sometimes,” said Moses, “having a safe place to rest is the first step.”
“We don’t know who she is,” said Claire. “She doesn’t know who she is. We don’t even know where she was born.”
“She’s one of the ghost children,” said Moses. “Mostly they disappear and are never seen again.”
“But this one came home,” said Claire.
“Yes,” said Moses. “This one came home. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
IVORY WAS WRAPPED around one of Cooley’s legs, was hanging on, as the big man lumbered through the grass.
“Any of you seen a little girl?” he asked.
“I’m right here,” said Ivory. “And I’m not little.”
“I had her,” said Cooley, “and then she ran off.”
“I’m right here!”
Cooley looked down at his feet. “There seems to be something nasty stuck to my shoe.”
“I’m not nasty. I’m not stuck.”
“Honey,” said Claire, “come bother Thumps.”
“Dog,” said Ivory.
“She still calling you that?” said Cooley.
“Evidently.”
“She can say Thumps well enough,” said Claire. “But she doesn’t appear to want to.”
“Dog is fine.”
“She’ll probably grow out of it,” said Cooley.
“I’m going home,” said Claire, “and taking Ms. Monster with me.”
“I’m not Ms. Monster,” said Ivory.
“Unless one of you big, strong men want to look after her for the day.”
“I have to take Moses home,” said Cooley.
“That’s right,” said Moses. “He has to take me home.”
“Don’t look now,” said Claire, “but you’re already home.”
“Ah,” said Moses, “another troubling indicator of decline in the hippocampus.”
Thumps could feel all eyes on him. “I guess we could spend some time together.”
Claire gave him her hawk stare, the one she reserved for federal officials, men in general, and rodents.
“And what would the two of you do?”
Thumps shrugged. “Take her to breakfast at Al’s.”
Claire looked at her watch. “Little late for that.”
Thumps shrugged. “Take her home. She could play with Freeway and Cookie. Spend some time with me in the darkroom.”
“As well as take her to the park and let her play on the slide over and over and over again? As well as try to put her down for a nap, while she screams at the top of her lungs? As well as give her a bath, while she dumps water on the floor with her tub toys? As well as try to get her to eat something besides pancakes and potato chips?”
“Only one good answer to that one,” said Moses.
Claire squatted down next to her daughter. “How about it, honey. You want to go with Dog?”
Ivory looked up at Thumps. Her lower lip began to quiver. “No!”
“And that’s what love looks like,” said Claire.
“I would have taken her.”
Claire lifted Ivory off her feet. “You want a big, squeezy hug and some sloppy kisses?”
Ivory cuddled up against Claire, buried her face in her breasts. “No,” she said. “I want a horse.”
2
It had been a perfect afternoon on the river bottom with Moses and Cooley, Claire and Ivory, and as Thumps drove back into town, he felt a wave of well-being and good will break over him, something that didn’t happen all that often, something that was a bit of a shock to the system.
The moment lasted longer than usual, and as he turned onto Main Street, he found himself thinking that he might stop in at the Aegean, see how Archie Kousoulas was doing. He hadn’t seen the man in over a week, and Archie would probably have a good story or two to share.
But stopping in to see Kousoulas was not without its cost. There wasn’t an enthusiasm the little Greek didn’t embrace. And each time Archie set out to save the world, he would wind up at Thumps’s door, insisting that Thumps join him in his newest cause du jour.
On sober second thought, it would be better to drop by the sheriff’s office. Duke Hockney had survived his prostate operation. He had recovered physically, but the mental part had been slower. Maybe he was still a little depressed. A friendly face, some kind words couldn’t hurt.
Yes, Hockney had a knack for dragging Thumps into harm’s way. Yes, the man made the worst coffee on the planet. Yes, he could be as big a bully as Archie.
As he pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office, Thumps realized that, in the end, neither was a good choice, that the only real difference between the two was that the sheriff’s office might have doughnuts and the bookstore would not.
The office was warm and cozy. Duke’s old percolator was bubbling away, with its disturbing smelter noises and alarming smelter smells. There was a Dumbo’s doughnut box on the filing cabinet. Deanna Heavy Runner, one of Duke’s deputies, was standing next to the cabinet, a cup in her hand. Sheriff Duke Hockney was at his desk, his service revolver out and pointed at the monitor.
Deanna gave Thumps a nod. “Doughnuts are all gone.”
Duke thumbed back the hammer. “You’re just in time.” And he pulled the trigger.
Thumps jerked back, closed his eyes.
“It’s okay,” said Deanna. “He took the bullets out.”
Thumps opened his eyes. The monitor was still standing.
Duke cocked the gun again. “I can always put them back in.”
“What happened to the doughnuts?”
Deanna gave a little grunt. “He ate them all.”
“When I’m angry,” said Duke, “I get hungry.”
“Computer problems?”
“Amazon,” said Deanna.
“Black hole of the modern world.” Duke pulled the trigger a second time, the hammer coming down on another empty cylinder. “You have Amazon?”
“Amazon what?”
“The online retailer,” said Deanna.
“No.”
“How about Amazon Prime Video?” said the sheriff.
“Nope.”
“Then you win first prize,” said Duke.
“First prize is a cup of coffee,” said Deanna. “Second prize is two cups.”
“Pass.”
“What are you talking about,” said Duke. “It’s perfect.”
Deanna held her cup up. “Remember the tar baby from Brer Rabbit?”
“You’re drinking it,” said Duke.
“No,” said Deanna, “I’m holding it. Suspicion of assault and impersonating a hot beverage. As soon as I figure out the rest of the charges, I’m taking it into custody.”
Duke waved her off. “I have a comedian for a deputy.”
“So, what happened with Amazon?”
“He can tell you the sad tale. I have to get over to the courthouse.” Deanna grabbed her hat, set the cup on the edge of Duke’s desk. “Put this in the holding cell. I’ll interrogate it later.”
THUMPS WAITED TO see if Deanna was going to come back and beat a confession out of the percolator. Then he settled in the chair in front of Duke’s desk.
“So?” he said. “Amazon?”
Duke reloaded the revolver. “Amazon Prime streaming whatever. Has a bunch of programs that Macy likes, says network television is nothing but reality crap.”
Duke slipped the gun back into its holster.
“So I say, ‘Sure, get the streaming whatever.’ And she does.”
