I could see the surprise in Railer’s face, feel the burn of surprise in my own chest. I had stomped on the gas pedal instead of the brakes, a dumb grinning kid in a farm truck. The chain snapped, recoiled back to slam my hood. The flattened car spun around and around, a ton top squealing metal sparks. I could hear the jagged spin of it, see the man’s startled face quick and quick again, a mean carnival ride, a coyote trick. I felt the panic of hilarious laughter in my throat. Railer had jumped to the side to avoid being hit. The car stopped. I caught myself thinking the trapped man was laughing but I was slammed with the sound of his wailing cry. Railer took off his cap and threw it to the ground. And then Railer was at my side door, yelling, “You dumb prairie nigger,” he yelled. “Damn dumb prairie nigger.” My hands were shaking as Railer yanked me out of the car. I thought he was going to hit me but he just stood close to me, loose limbed, chest heaving. He put his hands to his hips and lifted his fingers to the man who had not taken his hands from the wheel of his car. It was suddenly quiet except for the man blubbering, his red face had turned white and puffy, his breath hoarse and heavy.

I stood stiff at attention, wishing Railer was still yelling at me. The man’s crying was unbearable, and I was responsible. We just stood there, Railer and me, caught up in our asinine plan with no more answers. Brute wind caught us up, rocked the car. We stood. Wind rushed at us, cracked the dry grass. I felt someone behind me. I looked at Railer but he was looking at the man, the wreck we had turned into a disaster. Railer was unaware that we had company but I knew. I crooked my neck, feeling the tight draw of muscles in my jaw. There on the hillside, big as life, big as a roadside warrior, a movie hero to the rescue, was my cousin Baptiste Yellow Knife on his faithful pony.

He sat straight in the saddle, a smirk on his face. He looked at me and held my gaze. I thought he was alone but when he shifted his shoulder I saw Louise on the back of the horse. At that moment she had never looked more beautiful. Yellow Knife dismounted. His horse was not even captured by a bit. He held the reins of the halter in his dark hands and without taking his eyes from mine reached up to help Louise down. I saw the shine of her long legs. Railer cleared his throat and I could see him looking at her, too, the trapped man forgotten.