Billy started to pull back his hand, but Polly gripped it a bit harder and smiled up at him, saying, “Remember that I am always here and ready to serve, soldier!” She winked her right eye so hard that her false eyelash fell off and splattered into her plate.

“Damn you soldiers! You always fuck me up!”

Billy smiled at her and tipped his ballcap. “See you again, Polly,” he said as he walked out the door.

Billy wondered about the fancy hotel as he got back into his Jeep. He found that hard to believe. He shrugged and started the engine. “Fancy hotel it is!” he said out loud as he burned a U-ie and headed south on 95th Street. He shook his head and started to laugh. Polly’s eyelash stuck in egg yolk.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

Kivgalo sat by the campfire, waiting on the other side of the river. He had known her before she was born.

“She’s not going to make it,” muttered Kivgalo, one of the oldest of the old ones. “Her spirit is too broken.”

“I have to protect her though,” he muttered. “When I lived, I was a strong hunter and now, in this life, I must give that strength back to The Living Ones. It’s my duty, but she won’t listen,” whispered Kivgalo to the flames. “Her heart is shattered. I’ve been with her all her short life. Saw how smart she was. How quick her mind could be. I had hope for this one. You know, when they’re born and we see their turnik and we know they are different. Different from the others. But she’s too broken now. We can die from a broken heart. I know that.”

Kivgalo continued talking to the flames. “I loved someone once. Loved that white woman with all my soul. Waited and waited for her to love me back, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. And I had fun with her. Fishing and eating in restaurants and laughing. Our long talks about life and love and how to manage it all. But she couldn’t love a Native man. At least not out in public where her friends could see us. One time after a great romp in bed, I asked her, ‘Is this all we are?’ and she nodded her head. That nod yes was the beginning of my end.”

Riita sat down across from Kivgalo and leaned her head back, ran her hand over the red kerchief that wrapped her grey hair in tight. She smacked her toothless gums together and took a deep drag off her cigarette.

“Kivgalo, we both know her heart is broken and it’s a bigger break than yours or mine. When she gets here, we’ll welcome her. Wrap her up in a blanket. Take her with us. It’s best.”