I hoped Railer would be off duty. Railer was not the highway patrol but if there was an accident he was the first to arrive. When there was a white man involved he had to assume the duties, but he would take over as if I had failed my job. He took all the credit for a job well done and blamed me for any problems. Any good work I have done over the years was a fluke to him, a stroke of good luck with no measure of my competence, something that fell into my lap. But I had something on him now. We’d both botched the highway accident outside of Perma. The way I saw it Railer had nothing to gloat about. Yellow Knife had rescued us both.

Louise AT LONG LAST HOME

Charlie Kicking Woman threw the blanket over her head when Lake County Officer Railer finally arrived. She knew enough to be quiet, to stuff the blanket in her mouth to keep her teeth from chattering while Charlie Kicking Woman lied to the white man. He had not even told his dispatch she had been in the car accident. Beside that dim highway, in the wake of scattered gravel Charlie had risked his job and she wondered why. She heard him tell Officer Railer there was only a driver, a Caucasian. She knew Charlie would take her home and then hate himself. The night was thick with her near-misses, her lazy troubles, her wildness, her grandmother’s downward glances.

They passed only one other car on the way home to her grandmother’s. Her head ached. The bones of her hands seemed loose and rattling. She closed her eyes and tried to rest but she could not forget the furious hooves of the deer shattering the window, the smell of hot oil and the man’s cologne, the strange, wild light scattering through a thousand broken edges of windshield glass. She felt the highway turns and the constant spine-aching rumble of tires on an uneven road. Now and again she thought she saw a farmer’s porch light glance through the windows as Charlie drove on. She was aware of things disconnected. The green light of the dashboard. Charlie’s stiff uniform collar. Charlie’s ears. She heard the spitting static of the dispatcher’s voice and Charlie’s low, sure reply.