Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Sweat lodges,” Mav murmured when he saw the direction of my gaze.
Mav stopped in front of the house, but didn’t get out right away. He finally glanced at me and said, “You should stay in here.”
“I’d like to come with you,” I said softly.
Mav turned to stare out the windshield for a moment and then finally nodded. I got out of the car at the same time he did. He went to talk with the men in the hearse and I saw that they stayed in the vehicle. I walked around the car to join Mav. The children who’d been playing with the ball had stopped to watch us, but instead of approaching us, they hung back, their eyes just as clouded and suspicious as those of the adults I’d seen in town. I fought back the urge to take Mav’s hand as we approached the front door where the men were sitting. Only one appeared to be lucid because the others were either swaying back and forth or already passed out. I could see several pairs of feet sticking out of the tents in the front yard. Empty bottles of liquor were scattered all over the place.
“Where is he?” Mav asked the one man who watched our approach in eerie silence.
The man jerked his head towards the door behind him, but said nothing. Mav glanced at the door and then to my surprise, he reached for my hand. I suspected it wasn’t so much about needing comfort like in the Coroner’s office the day before, but more about keeping me close. I gladly took it and hoped he couldn’t feel the slight shudder that kept rolling through me. Things had never been easy for me and my family when it had just been me, my mother and sister, but compared to this place, we’d lived in fucking Shangri-La.
The inside of the trailer was dark and stank of alcohol, rotting food and sweat. Garbage bags sat near the entrance and more were piled on top of the small kitchen table. A couple of men and women were sitting at one of end of the trailer watching an old television set that actually had the old fashioned bunny ear antennas. Another man was passed out on the floor in front of the TV. In the kitchen was a young woman washing a baby in one side of the double sink. The other sink was piled high with dirty dishes, as was the counter next to it.
No one spoke to Mav as we moved towards the back of the trailer and he barely spared them a glance. I had counted at least a dozen adults so far and half that many kids, and I had a strong suspicion that they somehow all lived in this one tiny house. There were three bedrooms in the trailer. The first two had people sleeping on several mattresses that were on the floor, and one had a couple of toddlers playing quietly on the floor with broken, faded toys. I nearly gagged at the stench as we passed the single bathroom and by the time we reached the far end of the trailer, I wanted to cry for Mav. I gripped his hand tightly in mine and he cast me a quick glance. He nodded at me as if understanding my distress, but he didn’t say anything.
The last bedroom was the biggest and was empty except for the single man sitting in an old rocking chair in one corner. He was smoking some kind of pipe. His long silver hair was tied in decorative braids and where everyone else had been dressed in either ragged, dirty clothes or only partially dressed, he was wearing clean clothes and had on some kind of leather vest that was fringed with tassels. His braids were tied off with decorative beads along with small feathers.
He didn’t speak when he saw Mav, but his jaw hardened when he saw our joined hands. I didn’t need to understand the man’s language to understand the word that fell from his mouth. Even if I hadn’t already heard Mav say it to me when he was telling me about his past, I would have known the slur for what it was.
Winkte.
Two Spirit.
I wanted more than anything to drag Mav out of there as I felt his hand turn cold and clammy in mine.
“Uncle Lyle told you?” Mav asked.
Mav’s grandfather nodded.
“I’ve brought her home to you.”
The man did nothing to even acknowledge the statement, let alone thank Mav. He slowly climbed to his feet and took another drag on his pipe before setting it down on a small table next to the chair. Mav didn’t wait for him to reach us. Instead he led me back out of the trailer. Several people had gathered around the hearse and were looking in the windows at the back of it. Mav motioned to the two men in the hearse and they quickly got out and went to the back to begin removing the shipping container. Mav never once released me as he went to the trunk of our rental and pulled out a paper bag. I’d seen him with the same bag the night before when he’d disappeared into his room, but I hadn’t realized what it was. The first thing I noticed was a picture sitting on top of what looked like some clothing. The picture was worn and faded, but I could make out a young woman with long black hair. A little boy with equally dark hair was sitting on her lap, a huge smile on his face. My heart sank as I realized it was a picture of Mav and his mother and I realized the bag contained the personal possessions the detectives had collected from the crime scene, including the clothes his mother had been wearing when she’d been killed, as well as her purse and all its contents.